Shades of Grey
by ProsePrincess
Summary: SPOILER WARNING.DA:O Awakening. Newly appointed Warden-Commander Alyxandria "Falcon" Cousland has loved and lost. Now she must fight a new generation of darkspawn with companions both old and new. Anders/Nate/FemCousland love triangle. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

***Author's Note: **_Hello to all of my fellow Dragons Age fans! First of all, I do not own the rights to any of the Dragons Age characters, nor am I in any way linked to Bioware or any of its brands._ _Now with that being said, let me go ahead and give you all a quick summary of what to expect from this story. This is an "Awakening" retelling (slightly AU). __***Disclaimer: If you have not played the Awakening expansion and do not wish the plot spoiled for you, do not read any further.**__ On a further note, I __will__ be using some of the in-game dialogue, but I do not intend to rely heavily on it. __**No, this story is not intended to be canon. **__There will be sections that I will be going on my own tangent for my own twisted amusement as well as for yours…hopefully. _

_As we begin our story a little over two years has passed since the end of the blight (yes, I am aware this is not canon, but this timeline better suits my purposes). Alistair slew the archdemon and thus, sacrificed himself to end the blight and to save the life of the woman he loved. Alyxandria Cousland (or Falcon as she is known to her friends) is the newly appointed Warden-Commander of Fereldan, and unaware of the major changes that are about to unfold in this new chapter of her life. This introductory chapter is set the day __after__ she arrives at Vigil's Keep. She has already met and conscripted Anders and Oghren. _

_Two last notes and I swear we'll get on with the story! The second half of Bryce Cousland's thoughts on taking care of the land is sadly not my work to claim. It is a quote from the late and great Leonardo da Vinci. Also, my ideas often-times come from music… strike that. MOST of the time. I am especially inspired by movie scores, as they're intentionally meant to round out and/or create the emotion of a scene. I will be adding these "Muse Tunes" to each chapter for those who might be interested. This first chapter was wholly inspired by Hans Zimmer's "Progeny" from the "Gladiator" soundtrack. I hope, dear readers that you enjoy this humble retelling and please do not be shy about telling me what you think! ~Prose_

**CHAPTER 1 – The Falcon's Flight**

The courtyard of Vigil's Keep was teeming with life as the sun began its languorous descent across the horizon, casting an otherworldly light over the crumbling walls of the ancient stronghold. Soldiers bustled back and forth, their booted footsteps echoing off the stones to mingle with the ringing of the armor-smith's hammer and the insistent cries of street vendors still plying their wares despite the lateness of the day. An ever-growing pitch of jovial voices spilled from the windows of the nearby tavern, adding to the momentary sense of normalcy in a less than normal time. No one noticed the small cloaked figure observing all of this from within the gloom of a darkened alcove.

Alyxandria Cousland slipped the hood of her cloak over her head, casting her features in heavy shadow before stepping from out of her hiding place. She had been watching the activity in the courtyard for some time now, trying to predict the right moment to make a move without being noticed. She chuckled dryly to herself as she imagined how she must look, creeping around the keep like a thief in the night. _Wouldn't my Mother have a laugh if she could see me now, _she thought grimly. _The high-and-mighty 'Cousland Spitfire' resorting to sneaking in the shadows for a bit of solitude. _

Alyx snorted softly to herself as she picked her way across the courtyard, doing her best to appear as nonchalant as possible to any onlookers who bothered to glance in her direction. Nevertheless, she kept to the outskirts mainly, avoiding heavily populated areas until she was able to skip down a set of stairs and out the portcullis that led to the barricades. She pulled the heavy folds of her cloak a little tighter as she continued down a small stone path that ran along the curtain wall until all but the soaring turrets of the Vigil had disappeared out of sight. Only then did she allow herself to stop and breath.

Sighing, Alyx quickly mopped at the sweat beginning to form upon her brow and the back of her neck before readjusting her hood. She longed for a cool gust of wind but knew the chances of a passing sea breeze were capricious at best, and would afford little relief from the stifling humidity that hung in the air like an invisible fog. She had forgotten how unforgiving Amaranthine's weather could be, from its hot, sultry summers to its long, brutal winters. Summerday had only just begun and yet it already felt like mid-Solace to her (though that was hardly surprising. Highever, after all, had always been a more temperate climate). Despite her discomfort, Alyx couldn't force herself to retreat back inside the relatively cool confines of the Vigil. Not yet at any rate.

After a long, disturbing night followed by yet another long and straining day, she had been desperate to get away…at least long enough to collect her thoughts. She had glimpsed an opportunity, the first since her arrival at the Vigil the night before, and had seized it before it was too late. Her new recruits were in their respective chambers recovering from the Joining and Senechal Varel was overseeing the building of the biers they would use come sundown to burn the bodies of the dead, both men and darkspawn alike. It was unlikely he would return to the keep until the job was done to his liking, and as the man seemed to be nearly as particular as she was, she figured that gave her approximately an hour or so to disappear. Alyx had grabbed her cloak and slipped out of the building before anyone could remark on her absence.

She cherished the immediate sense of freedom that had washed over her the moment she stepped outside. As if she were a prisoner liberated after a long stint in a dungeon she inhaled the moist air and looked up at the sky, noticing the clouds rolling in from the Waking Sea. It would rain before the night was out; not an uncommon occurrence in this part of the country if she remembered correctly. Maybe then it would cool to a more manageable temperature…though given her luck of late it was more likely to get hotter still.

The sound of footsteps broke through her thoughts, causing a moment of panic. Pulse racing, she dove behind some nearby scaffolding, squeezing as much of her small form behind the heavy oaken frame as was humanly possible. A few guardsmen turned the corner and ambled in her general direction. She held her breath as their voices drew closer, then faded as they passed by her hiding place and continued through the open portcullis. She waited a few moments to make sure they were gone before moving back onto the path, heading in the opposite direction.

Alyx wished it was unnecessary to take such dramatic actions in order to get some alone time, but it had become unavoidable. Everyone wanted a piece of the newly appointed Warden-Commander or the "Hero of Fereldan" as they so foolishly called her these days. _Hero_, she snorted to herself. She was no hero…true, she had the tainted blood of a Warden and a certain amount of skill and luck on her side, but a hero it made her not. The _true_ hero had come and gone. _He_ had been the one to make the ultimate sacrifice in the end, not she. Pain lanced through her heart at the thought and she immediately scrubbed it from her mind. She had no wish to experience the all-too familiar ache that usually followed such remembrances.

Instead Alyx began rehashing the events leading up to her arrival at the keep the previous night. She and a young recruit, a former soldier named Mhairi, had marched directly from Denerim, only stopping to rest when it was too dark to continue. The woman had valiantly tried to engage her new Commander in conversation, but to no avail. Alyx rebuffed most of her questions about the blight and largely ignored her grandiose speeches of honor and glory. Disappointed, Mhairi had fallen silent for the duration of the trip. Alyx had felt a pang of guilt for brushing her off as she had. Such honest enthusiasm should be commended, but the woman's obvious youth and naiveté had grated on nerves already stretched to their limit. It was clear that Mhairi desperately wanted to earn her place in the Order and Alyx hardly found it fair to crush her spirit. What would it serve to ruin her glamorous delusions of fighting darkspawn at this point in time? She would know the reality of it soon enough…if she survived that long that is.

By the end of the last day of their journey Alyx had decided to push through to the Vigil despite the waning light. Both women were exhausted and in no mood to stop when they were so close to their final destination. So they traveled on, reaching the keep only a few hours after nightfall.

All she had wanted was a hot bath and a real meal…perhaps even an ale or two to take the edge off before falling into (Maker willing) an uninterrupted sleep. Instead the two women had found a handful of frightened guards, a crumbling estate filled with dead (or missing) Wardens and a talking darkspawn as the cherry on top. _How lovely, _Alyx thought, just as she had then. _A talking darkspawn. _Impossible! And yet…she had seen it with her own eyes; heard it with her own ears. Nothing that she had learned of the darkspawn up until now had prepared her for that. _But what does it mean?_

If only one of the Orlesian Wardens had survived the darkspawn infiltration… perhaps then she would have her answer. Not for the first time, Alyx wondered at the irony of her current situation. No army of Wardens at her back. No simple solutions to her steadily growing list of troubles. No answers…only death. Not even Mhairi had survived in the end, poor lass. She had made it through the battle to regain the Keep only to fall during the Joining. Instead she had been blessed with a drunken dwarf and a wise-cracking mage, though she was grateful that _they_ at least had survived the ritual.

_The Maker must have a truly wicked sense of humor, _she mused wryly.

It was all she could think of to explain the obstacles that so frequently jumped up in front of her. Three Wardens against a horde of strangely, horrifyingly intelligent darkspawn…hmm…at least her odds had gone up since this time two years ago. And as if that were not enough for her to contend with, it seemed that she would have to play Arlessa as well.

_Leave it to Anora to forget that little detail, _she snorted in disgust. When she had agreed to be the Warden-Commander it had been with the impression that the Arling had been given to the Order of the Grey itself, not to her. She hadn't given a moment's thought to the ramifications behind the title or the inherent responsibility that came with it. It wasn't until the queen had paid her a visit earlier in the day that it truly dawned on her what she had become. And here she thought herself shed of nobility, only to find herself right back to where she started.

Alyx crouched down and scooped up a bit of earth, absentmindedly rubbing her hands together to let the soil crumble and siphon through her fingers. She closed her eyes, memorizing the texture, breathing in the heady scent of the earth within her hands. It was something she had seen her Father do on countless occasions in her childhood.

"_You must care for the land as you care for the people that toil it, Pup. Even the richest soil, if left uncultivated, will produce the rankest weeds," _he would say as the soil cascaded from his hands. It took her years to understand the true meaning behind those words. How she missed him in these moments.

Her father had been a good man. He had a respect for the common man that few other nobles ever held and ruled his lands with a firm yet fair hand. This rarely won him favor at court, though it had garnered a great deal of esteem from those who worked and lived for him. Alyx recalled the few times in her youth that her parents had brought her to Denerim. At the Landsmeet the nobles would treat Bryce Cousland with the deference due to a Teyrn …a title shadowed only by the King himself. Yet they would call him an idealist and a fool behind his back.

Remembering the Landsmeet made her think of the hoops she would have to jump through in the coming days and months. Reflexively she shuttered. She had never wanted anything to do with court life. The petty gossip, the endless hours of preening followed by endless hours of frivolity that hardly masked the ever-present unscrupulous games the politicians so loved to play. As a child she had run from it as fast and as far as her legs would carry her…until her Mother got a hold of her and forced her to act like the 'Lady' she was 'meant' to be. It seemed she still had the urge to flee; only her Mother wasn't there to stop her this time.

Another wave of sadness swept over her as she thought of her parents. It had been three years since their death and yet she still missed them with her whole heart. How she longed for her Father's guidance…her mother's strength…

The sound of a screech and flapping wings nearby interrupted her musings. With a flash of movement a falcon landed on the top of a tumbled-down wall, no more than a stone's throw from her crouched position. Sharp yellow eyes met steel blue as Alyx and the falcon stared at each other intently. Slowly, carefully, so as to not scare the beast away, she reached inside her cloak and found the small leather pouch tied at her waste. Her fingers pulled free a bit of raw meat she had saved for her mabari, Hector. With a sharp flick of her wrist she tossed the offering to the bird, which gracefully snatched it up mid-air. With a couple of quick clicks of its sharp beak it swallowed the meal whole, clucking at her in appreciation. Its large, predatory eyes gleamed intelligently in the low light as it turned its head back and forth in contemplation. Alyx tilted her own head as she watched the bird curiously. She recalled a time in her travels that one of her comrades had decided on a lark to call her 'Falcon'. Although it had been meant as a joke in the beginning, the others had caught on quickly, and eventually the nickname had stuck.

"_But why should they call me Falcon?" _she had pouted to Alistair one night as they lay in each other's arms. She recalled how his big hands gently traced patterns across her back, leaving goose bumps in their wake. _"I hardly see the resemblance." _

"_Ah, but it's a perfect comparison, my love. A falcon is sleek and beautiful…and just as deadly," _he quipped with a chuckle, his honeyed voice low and full of warmth. _"The falconer at Redcliffe used to say his best hunters would remain loyal to the same master for the span of their lives. I wonder if that is true of all falcons?"_ he had continued teasingly, though she had noted a hint of earnestness within the depths of his hazel eyes.

After that she was quick to warm to the epithet. Nowadays it was rare for someone to call her by her given name, though she could admit that most never knew it to begin with. She supposed the fact should bother her more than it did; rather she found she preferred it that way. It was only fitting after all. Her old life had died the day she agreed to be a Warden, why should anyone think of her as anything else?

"I do you no justice, my friend," she murmured to her namesake.

The falcon bowed its head once as if in acknowledgment of her words before leaving in a flurry of feathers, just as swiftly as it had first appeared. She watched as it glided across the sky, letting out a long cry before diving into the tree line.

"Commander?"

Alyx snapped her head around, surprised at the sound of the voice behind her. Garevel, the Captain of the Guards here at the Vigil, stood at attention just at the edge of the path. She quickly turned away before he could see the chagrin in her expression. How had he known how to find her? _Must be losing my touch, _she thought with a grimace. After a moment of pause she wiped all emotion from her features and turned back to the man with quiet determination.

"What is it?" she said in a clipped, commanding tone.

"There is a…matter…which Seneschal Varel would like for you to look into," the Captain replied diplomatically.

"Can it wait?" she asked.

"Certainly…though I think it best for all involved if it is taken care of sooner rather than later."

"Cut to the chase, Garevel." Alyx snapped, her patience already wearing thin as her cerulean gaze drilled into his. She saw the subtle flinch and the uneasy transfer of weight from one foot to the next. He was not the first to falter under her scrutiny, though she was admittedly impressed with his recovery time.

"There is a man…a criminal that has been in our custody for several days now. By rights, as Arlessa, it is left to you to pass judgment on his crimes. The Senechal asked that you question him at your first convenience."

"What has he done?"

"He was caught within the walls of the Keep, stealing trinkets left over from the Vigil's former owners. Whether or not this was his sole objective is as of yet unclear. One thing's for sure…he is a dangerous man, Commander, and needs to be dealt with immediately."

Alyx pursed her lips in thought and then nodded as she finally stood and brushed any remnants of dirt from her hands and legs. With one last look at the sky she glance back at Garavel and shot him a courteous smile.

"Alright, Captain. Let's go see this dangerous criminal of yours."

* * *

***Author's Addendum: **_In a fit of writer's block I decided to go back and re-edit all of the chapters I had already posted, giving them a face-lift if you will. Author notes that were necessary at the time but are no longer will be taken out (save for callouts and muse tunes – which I have added to in some cases), so nothing integral will have changed from the original. This is a continuing process, leading up to the release of the newest chapter once I've sorted out my muse. Also, I wanted to take the time to note before we go on that I started writing this story long before DA2 was even announced. I have an intended direction, so I do not plan to use any part of the DA2 plot for this particular story. Thanks for reading, and kindly review! ~Prose_


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2 – Jailhouse Blues**

Considering everything she knew of the late Arl Rendon Howe, the Vigil's dungeons turned out to be, well…nothing at all as Alyx had envisioned them. She wasn't exactly sure _what_ she had been expecting; only that she assumed they would be a bit more…impressive. Especially after seeing the renovations the crazy bastard had made to the Arl of Denerim's Estate first hand. She shivered, remembering the hell hole she had found herself in while trying to "rescue" Queen Anora from the man's vindictive clutches during the blight. _Creepy, _as Alistair used to say, would be putting it lightly. Instead of a blood-spattered torture chamber that was more along the lines of the late Arl's tastes, the room she currently stood in was small and sparse, featuring a mere handful of cells lined against the far wall. Only one appeared to be presently occupied.

The cell was heavily shadowed but she could still make out the figure of a man in the gloom thanks to a small chink in the wall, spilling in just enough light to clearly see his profile amid the wildly dancing dust motes. The prisoner sat on a soiled bedroll in the corner of the sparsely furnished cell, his large frame propped against the damp stone wall, arms resting loosely across his knees. His head was thrown back to reveal sculpted, aristocratic features framed by loose strands of hair that had fallen out of its leather thong, no doubt meant to keep the shoulder-length raven locks from falling into his face. Alyx froze, her heart thrumming with a sudden, inexplicable disquiet as she took in every detail of the stranger's appearance. He was not what one would call classically handsome, however she could admit (albeit begrudgingly) that there was a certain appeal to the man's rugged features. Yet it still did not explain the unease steadily building just beneath her breastbone. There was something in his manner, in the taught-ness of his body that told her that he was well aware that she was scrutinizing him and was merely biding his time…_Dangerous, _flashed through her mind over and over again like a warning knell.

"…Locked up for the past three nights now. Good men died while this one was protected in his cell," the man next to her growled in disgust as he shot the prisoner a murderous glance. "I'd say he was just a thief, but it took four Grey Wardens to capture him."

Alyx blinked, realizing that she hadn't really been paying attention to what the poor prison guard had been saying up until now. She glanced at the young man, an earnest yet unremarkable sort with the transparent desire to impress her. _Poor sod, _she thought as she politely pretended not to notice how red his face had gotten in the short distance from the door to the center of the room.

"Four Wardens you say?" Alyx asked instead.

"That's right.' Hardly believe it me'self if I hadn't seen it with m'own two eyes," the guard replied with a sniff.

"Who is he?" she asked curiously, her gaze returning to the prisoner.

"Wouldn't say…just stares daggers every time we interrogate'em. I'd bet two weeks' pay he's no ordinary burglar—err, if I was the bettin' sort, ma'am…Commander Ser," the guard added as he remembered who he was speaking to.

_Hmm, interesting, _she thought. Approaching the cell she lowered her hood to get a better look at the man. There was something oddly familiar about him, though she couldn't quite place him. Had they met? _No. _She would have remembered such a man. _And yet…_

"Leave me talk with him," she ordered without glancing at the guard.

"Err…Very well, Warden-Commander," the young man replied hesitantly, walking only as far as the front door.

At the sound of her voice the prisoner had turned to look at her. Sharp, silverite eyes scrutinized every inch of her, curiously at first but with a sudden, surprising malevolence. She could feel the rage rolling off of him in waves and yet when he stood to approach her it was with a single, fluid movement that spoke volumes about his skill. It was all she could do not to flinch back as he grasped the cell bars between two large, white-knuckled hands and sneered down at her arrogantly.

"Well, well," he drawled in a low, mocking voice. "If it isn't the _Hero_ of Fereldan; defeater of the blight and all-mighty slayer of the darkspawn horde! Somehow I thought you'd be a little…taller."

Alyx's nostril's flared at the jibe. Her height had always been a sore point with her, but she refused to let this man taunt her.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Ser thief. You appear to know who I am, but if we've met it seems I've had the poor manners to forget."

"We have never met. We do, however, have an acquaintance in common."

"Have we? Please _do_ enlighten me," she retorted, sarcasm dripping from her every word as she crossed her arms in front of her protectively.

"I doubt you'd recall a man you murdered in cold blood. I'd expect it's something that comes as naturally as breathing to you Wardens."

"Beg pardon?" she gasped.

"My name is Nathaniel Howe. You murdered my father," he spat, white fire in his eyes as he loomed over her menacingly.

_Nathaniel Howe!_

Alyx could hardly believe what she was hearing. As much as she wanted to deny it, all the puzzle pieces snapped into place as she stared at him. The evidence was there in his face…irrefutable no matter how much she wished it to be so. _, _her brain groaned beneath the roaring in her ears.

"Arl Rendon Howe was responsible for the deaths of _hundreds_ of innocent men and women!" Alyx cried in soft indignation.

_Including my family, you dimwitted lout! _She silently added, seething. How dare he accuse _her_ of murder!

_"Lies!"_ he hissed back. "My father loyally served country and crown, as twelve generations of Howe's did before him…And what did he get in return? Cut down in his prime in his own estate, his land and titles revoked, his family left with _nothing_. The Howe's are pariahs now…what few of us are left at any rate, and I have you to thank for it."

Alyx unexpectedly softened at these last words. Through the hate in his voice she could hear both pain and confusion…emotions she herself had become very well acquainted with.

"I never wished ill will on the rest of your family Nathaniel, but your father more than deserved his fate," she said softly, her chin going up a stubborn notch.

"And who are you to judge that?" he snarled at her.

Alyx's brow crumpled in confusion…who was _she…? _And then it occurred to her. Either Nathaniel knew nothing of her family's fate or he had no idea who she really was. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry._ Oh, the irony!_ Either way, she felt it best to keep her identity a secret from him until she knew whether or not he had been involved in his sire's unscrupulous designs.

"I witnessed many of his injustices firsthand," she retorted as she folded her hands demurely in front of her, an action that belied the fire that lay beneath her cool words. "Tell me…did you know anything of your father's plans? Or are you disparaging my character on speculation alone?"

Howe blanched at that, but only for a moment.

"I knew nothing. I have been in the Free Marches for the better part of a decade, having been squired there from a tender age. I returned to Fereldan a fortnight ago only to learn the fate of my family from a few of the friendlier patrons of the _Crown and Lion_."

"You took the word of some drunks? On the _fate of your family?"_ she gasped in disbelief.

"Their claims have thus far proven correct," he said with a wholly masculine shrug.

"_Men," _she huffed to herself in annoyance, not even pretending to understand such a course of action.

Secretly she was relieved to hear Nathaniel's self-proclaimed ignorance. Though she had been little more than a child the last time she had seen him, Alyx recalled a boy who had been both proud and honorable. _That_ Nathaniel would never have tolerated the travesties his father had unleashed during the blight. However, she conceded that the same boy had desperately sought his Father's attentions and thus, had been loyal to Rendon to a fault. She would never know for certain. Not unless she was willing to give him the one thing that could bring forth the truth…time. But was she willing to take such a risk on him? This man that barely resembled the boy she once knew?

Garevel had said he'd been caught stealing from the Vigil in the middle of the night…it was more likely Nathaniel had only been taking what had been his to begin with. If he had other plans, well, then they had obviously been thwarted. Inwardly shrugging she knew that there was only one way to find out his true intentions.

"Guardsman," she called.

"Here, Commander."

"Unlock the cell. I find speaking through metal bars to be intolerable."

"A-are you sure about that, my Lady?"

"Do you always question orders?" she retorted, her eyes narrowing at the man.

"I…ah… that is to say—Right away, Commander," he stuttered, fumbling with the keys as he jumped to do as she ordered.

_Poor fool, _she thought, shaking her head.

"Thank you. Now, listen very carefully. No matter what happens when you open that door, _do not_ intervene unless I implicitly ask you to. Do you understand?" she said, her voice cold with authority.

"Y-yes, my Lady."

"Good man," she said, slapping his back good-naturedly.

A few moments later she heard the latch give and the door swung open with a screech. No sooner did she step in to the cell then did she find herself slammed against the wall, Nathaniel's hand encircling her neck.

"Bad move, Commander," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down her spine. Her breath hitched in her throat as she met his steely gaze. His face was only inches from hers, a sneer curling his upper lip. "You see, I came here with the intention of killing you…my father's murderer. Admittedly once I arrived I cared nothing more than to retrieve what few belongings still remained of my family's. But now…It would be so easy to snap that lovely neck of yours," he purred, his fingers reflexively digging into the tender skin surrounding her jugular. "Just a flick of my wrist, and it would all be over. Your guard dog would never make it across the room in time to save you."

Alyx didn't fight his grasp. Though his words were cruel his grip was not. She could see he took no pleasure in the idea of killing her, but neither was he ready to release her. She swiftly tried to surmise a weakness, calculating that distraction was her best chance. Instinctively she let her eyes soften, her lips parting seductively. It was enough. The moment he hesitated she grabbed his arm and in one fluid motion she had him pinned against the wall, the arm that had been holding her twisted behind his back. He struggled once, but finding her grasp unbreakable he stopped. As an extra precaution she threw her weight into his back as she leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"You know, they didn't make me Commander simply because I was the last Fereldan Warden at the end of the blight."

"So I see. Well played, my Lady," he replied hoarsely, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

"Guard!" she called, keeping a vice-grip hold on Nathaniel's arm.

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Have the Senechal brought forth. Tell him I've decided the prisoner's fate."

"Very well, Commander," he answered with a bow.

Though she could not see him she could hear the guard's footsteps departing, leaving her alone with _him. _

"If I let you go, will you promise to behave?" she asked him cautiously.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating against her chest.

"If I must," he answered. "As these are most likely my last moments, it would be a shame to waste them by making an utter fool of myself."

"Wise man," she murmured, letting his arm go and slowly backing out of the cell.

Nathaniel rubbed the offended appendage absentmindedly, throwing her a lop-sided smile that made her heart skip a beat. Before she could consider the possible meanings behind such a reaction, Senechal Varel entered the dungeon with the guardsman close behind him.

"Ser Fredrick tells me you've reached a decision about our young friend here," Varel said as he approached her. "Quite a handful, isn't he?"

"Indeed. Did you know that this is Nathaniel Howe?"

"Nat—A _Howe?_" Varel repeated in surprise. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as his gaze slid from her to Nathaniel, then back to her. "It figures. I suppose it was only a matter of time before one of them turned up. The Howe's are implacable enemies, both to the crown and to the Order…though I hardly need tell _you_ that."

"As you say," Alyx replied, an ironic smile briefly touching her lips. Varel cleared his throat, his face coloring ever so slight in embarrassment as he realized the implications of his words.

"Then have you decided on a course of action, Commander?" he asked quickly, his voice coming out somewhat gruffer than usual.

"Yes, Varel. I wish to invoke the right of conscription," she stated authoritatively.

"_What?" _Nathaniel roared.

"The right of conscription? Are you sure, Commander?" Varel asked, his expression landing somewhere between disgust and surprise.

"Prepare the Joining. He _will _become a Warden, as I have ruled," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. That didn't stop Nathaniel from railing at her anyway.

"No! Absolutely not! Hang me first!" he cried, his hands slamming against the bars in abject fury.

"Here are your choices, Nathaniel," Alyx replied as she calmly approached him, stopping only when there was nothing save for the metal bars to separate them. "Leave here with nothing and spend the rest of your life in obscurity, or join the Wardens and redeem your family's name. Either way, I will not have your blood on my hands."

"I—"he began, his temper pulling up short as he studied her again, weighing her words with what was likely a healthy dose of doubt in her sincerity. "Do you really want a _Howe_ as a Grey Warden? Especially one that just tried to kill you?" he asked incredulously.

"Some of my best friends have wanted me dead," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"You—You are a very strange woman, you know that?"

"So I've been told," she replied before turning to Varel. "Give him back his belongings. Let me know when the ritual is prepared."

"Yes, Commander," Varel replied reluctantly, his expression hardening as his gaze returned to Nathaniel. "Come with me, ser. We will see if you survive the joining."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Diego's Goodbye" by James Horner (Mask of Zorro OST); "Suspended Memories" by Paul Haslinger (Underworld OST)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Remembrances**

Alyx stormed across the Vigil, her features stamped in grim determination. It was still early evening and yet to her it felt as if the witching hours had already come and gone, leaving her feeling on edge and bone-weary. It had proven to be a mentally exhausting day and she could think of only one way to end it…copious amounts of alcohol.

After leaving the dungeon she had overseen the mass funeral for those that had fallen during the darkspawn attack the night before. As Commander and Arlessa it would have usually fallen to her to give the Right of Last Words, but somehow it didn't feel right. Instead she had her new Senechal preside. Varel had at least known them, and could properly see them off to the Maker.

No sooner had the ceremony ended than she found herself reciting the Grey Warden Oath (for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, no less) as Nathaniel took his Joining. She braced herself as he accepted the goblet from Varel's hands and promptly drained its contents. Within moments his eyes had rolled back in his head as the darkspawn blood began to taint his bloodstream. She had winced as he collapsed at her feet with a dull thud.

"He lives, Commander, and will recover in time," Varel announced somberly once he checked Nathaniel for a pulse. All Alyx could do was nod in acknowledgement.

She didn't know if she should be relieved or concerned that he'd survived. Nathaniel's obvious distrust of herself and of the Order could cause her more problems than it was worth. Yet somehow she felt compelled to give him a chance at redemption, despite his foul demeanor and the constant reminder his presence would provide.

Reaching the great hall Alyx slammed open the door, making everyone within jump at the sound. A few soldiers that had been lounging just inside made a quick getaway after taking one look at the Commander's stormy expression. She spotted Anders and Oghren sharing a drink by the massive hearth at the far end of the chamber and made a beeline for her new brothers-in-arms.

"Hey!" Oghren cried as she swiped the tankard from his hand and began chugging the contents without a word to either of them.

"Andraste's Knickerweasel's!" Anders breathed, his hazel eyes widening as she drained the contents, wiping her mouth on her sleeve afterwards.

"Hehe, now that's more like it. Good on ye, Falcon," Oghren said with gruff appreciation, already pouring himself and the Commander another round. "You could teach twinkle-fingers here a lesson or two."

"Call me twinkle-fingers again, dwarf, and I'll turn you into a nug," Anders replied, narrowing his eyes at Oghren.

"Ha! As if I hadn't heard _that_ one before," the red-headed dwarf muttered.

"Gah! How do you drink this swill Oghren?" Alyx croaked, purposefully ignoring the masculine banter. She took her refilled mug and plopped down in a vacant chair with a long sigh. Immediately Hector padded up, pushing his wet nose under her hand with a whine. Absentmindedly she scratched the mabari's head.

"Wouldn't have to if the Vigil provided better booze," he answered with a grunt.

"If I remember correctly, Arl Howe had an extensive collection of fine wines and spirits. I'll ask Varel to look into it in the morning," she murmured distractedly.

Oghren grunted in approval.

"So, tell us Commander. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company? Not that I'm complaining about having such a rare and dazzling beauty as a drinking companion," Anders entreated suavely.

"Yeah, Falc. Last time I checked ye only drink like that when ye have something on yer mind," Oghren added.

"How _exceptionally_ insightful of you, Oghren," Alyx retorted in a clipped, sarcastic tone.

"What? Because he's never sober enough to notice such details? What a shocker," Anders quipped with a look of mock surprise written across his face.

Oghren half snorted half belched in response, shrugging his shoulders when Anders stared and Alyx pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers and sighed. With a shake of her head she took another swig of her drink, shuttering when the aftertaste swept over her.

"So?" Oghren prompted.

"We have a newly-joined recruit," she answered softly, staring into her cup.

"What? _Truly?_ For the love of the Maker tell me it's another woman…preferably a red-headed goddess with swaying hips and legs for days," Anders crowed, his eyebrows waggling at her expressively.

"I'm afraid not, Anders," she replied with a chuckle.

"Then _please_ end the suspense! Who is this mysterious new Warden?"

"It's—" she began, mumbling the name so low that neither of her companions could hear it."

"Speak up woman! Yer mumbling into yer booze!" Ogrhen grumbled.

"Nath-an-iel Howe," she pronounced out, her eyes shooting daggers at the dwarf.

Anders nearly choked on his drink, spraying them all with ale as the words sunk in. Oghren guffawed.

"_What!"_ Anders finally cried once he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"He-he! Just like old times, Falcon!" Oghren added, shaking his head. "A Howe, eh? Surprised you didn't just slit his throat and feed 'em in bits to Hector here."

"I'm sure by this time tomorrow I'll wish I had. To say that he 'dislikes' me would be putting it lightly."

"Not like _you_, dear Lady? Why on Thedas not?" Anders crooned.

"Because she killed his Father, that's why," Oghren barked good-naturedly.

"And would do so again with great pleasure had I the chance," she returned, clinking her tankard against Oghren's in a toast before taking another deep swig.

"_Nug-humper_," Oghren added before drinking from his own glass.

"Oooh, I had heard that the Wardens were responsible for that, but I didn't realize that it had been you personally. Sounds like there's a story behind that," Anders said with great interest.

"Mind your own sodding business!" Oghren growled, leaning forward in his seat menacingly. Alyx touched his shoulder, shaking her head at him.

"It's alright my friend," she said softly before turning her attention back to Anders. "Arl Rendon Howe was an outright bastard who not only turned out to be Loghain's lapdog, but the man responsible for the murder of my family and the destruction of my home."

"But—_Really?_ Why in the Maker's name would he do that?"

Alyx shrugged.

"He wanted Highever for himself…and found my Father's continuing health and livelihood an inconvenience. So he sought to relieve it from him the old-fashioned way. Too bad for him—I survived to return the favor."

"Highever? But then that would make you—"

"The daughter of a Teryn? Yes. I was Bryce Cousland's youngest, his only daughter, and currently one of only two remaining Couslands in all of Fereldan."

Anders whistled low in his throat at this news, looking at Alyx with renewed appreciation.

She stared into the flames dancing in the hearth before her, her eyes clouding with the memories of that long-ago night. Her voice was low and gruff as she told them of the events before and during the siege, leaving out some of the more gruesome things she'd seen throughout her flight from the castle. Though it had been three years since that horrible night, she could still see everything in perfect clarity.

_Pounding at the door…Smoke burning her eyes and throat as she and her Mother desperately searched for her Father…Oriana and Oren, dead on the floor of her brother's bedroom…lines of archers drawing their bows...the innocent running and screaming, clawing at the doors to get out…and the words of a man that had confirmed what she had already begun to comprehend._

"_The Howe says kill them all. If they run, then hunt them down. Spare no one," the man had ordered in a cold, emotionless voice. She'd recognized the man as a knight in the Arl's service._

Alyx had found a murderous rage within herself that night, a rage that had given her the strength to fight back despite the fear and pain. It had dulled her conscience to a dull buzzing at the back of her mind, giving her leave to unleash hell on the men responsible for the destruction of everything she held dear.

_Nan dead just steps from the larder…her Father laying in a pool of his own blood, struggling to stay conscious long enough to see them one last time…strong arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her away from her parents as the rest of Howe's men broke through the gates with a resounding crash…and there was the screaming. The incessant screaming of the dying echoing over and over again in her ears…_

"There were eighty-seven souls in Highever Castle that night. Out of all of them only six of us survived, including myself and Duncan. _Six,_" she said hoarsely as she concluded her tale. "If it hadn't been for Duncan, I would have died along with them."

"Maker," Anders breathed, his face having been drained of all its color.

Even Oghren was silent, his ruddy features set in a thoughtful frown.

Alyx closed her eyes for a moment, fighting the wave of sorrow that threatened to swallow her. Quickly she shoved the memories back down and cleared her throat as she smiled sadly at her compatriots.

"I am sorry. I've never spoken of that night to this extent," she said in a way of explanation for her obvious grief.

"Ye never talked to the little pike-twirler about this?" Oghren asked gruffly, his eyes beginning to glaze over in drunkenness.

"Once," she answered, her eyes clouding once again with memories.

_She had asked the Reverend Mother at the Redcliffe Chantry if she could use her private chapel to mourn in peace. Alistair had found her prostrate at the feet of a statue of Andraste, silently weeping into the stone floor. He never said a word, merely sat on the floor next to her and waited for her to speak. _

_When she did her words were broken with pain and soon she was unable to continue. Though he never said it, she knew he understood. When the tears became too much to bear he simply pulled her into the circle of his arms, letting her weep into his shoulder until the spasms died down and she could breathe once again. _

"_Don't tell the others," she had whispered into his neck. "I couldn't bear their pity." _

"_Of course," he had answered, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes with a calloused thumb. _

It was in that moment that she'd begun to realize the true depth of her feelings for Alistair. In spite of his corny jokes, horrible habits and absurd obsession with cheese, she had somehow fallen deeply, unequivocally in love with the man. She shook her head to clear the memories before turning to Oghren to offer an explanation.

"It was too fresh in my memory to clearly explain to Alistair what happened. Being who he was, he never forced the issue," she told them.

"But why do you go by Falcon instead of—"

"Alyxandria?" she finished for Anders, realizing that she had never given him her true name. "It is a pet name, though it hardly signifies."

"But didn't you just say that you're the last of the Couslands? Wouldn't that make you Teyrna or whatever they call it?" Anders persisted.

"_One _of the last. My older brother, Fergus, also lived. He'd ridden ahead to Ostagar with my Father's forces and out of sheer luck, missed the battle and survived the blight. Of course I didn't know he had survived until after the Battle of Denerim, but I am most grateful that he did. At any rate, Highever is safe in his capable hands."

"But-"

"_Anders._ Who I was no longer matters. I shed the name Cousland when I became a Grey Warden. The person I was…that woman no longer exists," she interrupted in a firm, dark voice.

Anders flinched at the coldness in her tone, but was wise enough not to comment further. A heavy silence fell over the group as each of them wandered deep into their own thoughts. The crackling of the fire and Hector's steady panting were the only sounds that could be heard in that moment.

"So why exactly did you recruit Howe's little blighter?" Oghren eventually asked.

_Why indeed, _she thought to herself.

"We need an archer, he's a master bowman…it makes sense," she answered instead.

"And I suppose he told you this?"

"Of course not. I took the opportunity to look through his things before I had him released. He's in possession of a finely crafted Antivan bow; one used only by the most proficient of archers. He will be useful in the coming battles."

Oghren snorted in response, obviously not believing her explanation.

"And you aren't afraid he'll turn out to be his father's son?" Anders questioned cautiously.

"No," she answered softly after a time, another small smile curving her lips. "He might be angry, but he is not suicidal."

Oghren snorted again and Anders chuckled.

_Why _did_ I recruit him? _Alyx thought for the hundredth time. She had every reason in the world to hate Nathaniel Howe and yet she could not bring herself to end his life. Had Fergus been in her place he would not have hesitated, and he and Nathaniel had been constant companions in their childhood.

Alyx thought back to the last time she'd seen him. She'd been twelve and he a strapping lad of sixteen. He was thin as a bean-pole back then, with a tuft of close-cropped hair so black it was nearly blue in the sunlight and his eyes…warm despite their icy tint, and generously framed with beautiful, dark lashes. When he laughed a small dimple would appear in his left cheek, making her heart flip-flop in the process. Nathaniel and Fergus had been thick as thieves, having been of an age, and they would both tease her mercilessly for following them around like a lost mabari pup. She had fancied herself in love with the boy, though she'd been far too young to truly understand the definition of the word. She had cried for days when her Father had told her he'd been sent to squire in the Free Marches. Funny, how she'd forgotten that…and forgotten him in the process.

Now, over a decade later, Alyx didn't see anything of that boy in the man. It was far more than filling out (and there was no question he had. There was once a time they'd been about the same height. Now he stood a good foot taller than her and at least a stone heavier). He had a hard look about his eyes that bespoke of a difficult life, and that not all having been stemmed from the outcome of his father's deeds. Gone was the carefree boy with the self-assured smile and in his place was a bitter and angry man. She didn't know which was worse; that his vehemence was concentrated on her, or that he felt justified in that anger. Alyx prayed that she had made the right decision; that in time he would come to be grateful for her intervention, but she knew that his trust would not come easily.

With a sigh she stood and stretched, looking from one companion to the other with the polite smile she had become accustomed to. Hector mimicked her, adding a wide yawn before lolling his tongue out of the side of his mouth in a canine smile.

"Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure, but I must bid you good night. We will speak again in the morning."

Oghren grunted in response, his eyes beginning to close as he slumped in his chair.

"Sweet dreams, fearless leader," Anders said, throwing her another one of his wicked smiles.

She smiled back, nodding her head in acknowledgment before turning to leave, Hector trailing behind her.

Once the Commander had gone, Anders stared into his mug as he contemplated the evening, watching as a few remaining suds swirled on the surface of the amber liquid.

"Hey Oghren?"

"Hmm?" the dwarf grumbled.

"Have you ever noticed when the Commander smiles, it never quite reaches her eyes?"

Oghren grunted in response.

"Has she always been like that?"

The dwarf didn't reply at first, and Anders began to think the he had actually dosed off in his chair.

"No," Oghren finally offered, his voice coarser than usual. "But I wouldn't go askin' her about it were I you, mage. She might decide to give ye' back to the templars after all."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"I Gave You All" by Mumford & Sons;__"Attack" by Hans Zimmer (Pearl Harbor OST); "Earth" by Hans Zimmer (Gladiator OST)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 - Questions Left Unanswered**

Nathaniel groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. Sunlight flickered against his closed eyelids, beckoning him from the dark recesses of his mind. Fuzzy images still swirled through his thoughts, colorful apparitions calling to him from beyond the veil, but the pull of reality was stronger. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and immediately closed them against the blinding light that poured into his chamber window. He groaned again as his head throbbed in time with the ringing in his ears. He felt hung-over, only he hadn't been drinking…had he?

All at once it came back to him; his capture, the dungeon, the woman…and then the Joining.

_The Joining!_

He sat bolt upright only to slump back against the bed as his stomach lurched at the sudden movement.

_Damn it, what have they done to me! _He thought miserably. _No one said anything about side effects when I agreed to this bloody charade! _

After a few moments he tried once again to sit up, but slowly this time. He sighed with relief when some of the pressure in his head let up and his stomach settled. There was still a faint buzzing in his ears and his throat was parched, but beyond that he was beginning to feel more like himself. He wondered if the others had felt the same way after their Joining, which led him to wonder how many "others" there were currently residing in his former home. He winced to think of the Vigil as such, but he was never one to fool himself over painful truths. He closed his eyes as he tried to regain his equilibrium, the anger and confusion from the night before pounding through his blood.

Standing, Nathaniel took a quick look around the room, his eyebrows arching in surprise when he realized that he'd been given his old chambers. He hadn't expected such niceties from the Wardens. Nor, admittedly, had he expected them to give him back his belongings. Yet there were his leathers, draped over and armchair by the hearth.

He dressed quickly, taking special care not to catch his image in the looking glass in the process. His torso was peppered with scars, most of which led to painful memories best left forgotten.

_Get it together, Howe, _he told himself with a mental shake. _You're no longer in the Free Marches, you're back in Fereldan. _He repeated the mantra to himself a few more times for good measure.

Stretching, he reached for his bow but hesitated. Sitting next to his quiver was a dark blue cloak with a silver griffon pin at the neck. It was an exact replica of the cloak the Warden-Commander had been wearing last night.

That's when it hit him…_truly_ hit him…he was a Grey Warden. Not a potential or a recruit or what-have-you. He had taken the Joining and had not been found wanting. He was expected to live with them, dine with them, fight with them, and most likely die with them. Not only that, but he had to answer to the woman that had murdered his father and had stripped him of his birthright.

_Could life be just a little more ironic? _He thought. _Because I haven't quite had my fill yet. _

All of his life he'd been taught to hate the Grey Wardens, and now he was one of their ranks. It was like trading one evil for another, and he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. The events of last night played back in his head. He had been prepared to die; had expected it, in fact. That would have been far preferable to wandering Fereldan homeless and nameless without any objective or future, but _this. _What was he supposed to do with this? And why in Andraste's name did the Commander recruit him in the first place? It had not been what he was expecting. _She _was not what he had been expecting.

Striking blue eyes had met his unwavering through the bars, incandescent against her porcelain skin and dark hair. He would never have guessed who she was if the guard hadn't called her by rank. _So this_ _was the famous Hero of Fereldan?_ He had thought. _This woman who could be mistaken for a child in her oversized cloak?_ Ridiculous! She looked entirely too delicate to take on an archdemon, let alone a formidable man like his father. Her head barely reached his shoulder for the Maker's sake! And yet she had proven herself to be both strong and resourceful when he'd thought to take the upper hand. It made Nathaniel ill to remember how close he'd been to killing her. The dark anger that had been his driving force since he left the Free Marches demanded he take her life, but looking into her eyes as his fingers wrapped around her neck, he knew that he could not. What a perplexing creature she was! He hated her for the things she had done to his family, yet found himself curiously drawn to her. Presently it occurred to him that he didn't even know her name.

His stomach interrupted his reflections, growling loudly in protest. _And no wonder,_ he thought. He hadn't had a proper meal in days. After nervously readjusting the straps of his quiver Nathaniel left his room and ambled towards the kitchens. The cook tsked at him for missing breakfast, but took pity and shooed him away with a trencher filled to the brim. He found the dining hall nearly empty beyond a few stragglers scattered amongst the long wooden tables that covered the vast space. Tall windows lined the east wall allowing sunlight to stream in, drenching the room in warmth. He could hear the soldiers training in the plaza below them and the low hum of voices that always presided over the keep during the busy hours of the day. For a moment he could almost think that nothing had changed; that he would see his sister Delilah bound into the room or his Mother quietly embroidering by the fire. A deep sadness welled up inside of him with the knowledge that he would never see either of them again.

He selected an unoccupied spot nearby a small group of soldiers still chatting over their empty plates. No sooner had he sat down than the men promptly stood, leaving Nathaniel to himself. _Apparently my reputation precedes me, _he thought with a scowl. He was not used to being snubbed, not even when he was considered little more than a scout in his travels. He chose to ignore the sudden sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach and instead turned his concentration to the food sitting in front of him.

He had taken no more than a few bites when he began to feel as if he was being watched. When he looked up he saw a mage and a dwarf sitting alone at the end of the table. They both openly stared, but their expressions were as different as night and day. The mage simply looked curious, but the dwarf glowered at him menacingly.

"Nathaniel, right?" the mage called, waving a hand at the empty spot across from him. "Won't you join us?"

Nathaniel arched an eyebrow at the man, but quickly realized who they must be. It would explain their reaction to his presence. Reluctantly he stood and walked over to the odd pair, keeping a wary eye on the bad-tempered dwarf as he joined them.

"I am Anders, and this scruffy-looking fellow is Oghren," the mage continued good-naturedly, earning a snort from his companion.

"You're Wardens," he replied grimly. Though he meant it as a question it came out more as a statement, but the mage nodded anyway.

"As are _you_…or so I've been told. The Commander suspected you would be up and about soon enough," Anders said.

"Hrmpf, it's about time too," Ogrhen added, his eyes shooting daggers at Nathaniel. "What's wrong boy? Yer noble sensibilities too sodding delicate for the darkspawn blood?"

Nathaniel's hackles rose, allowing some of the previous night's anger to seep back in, but noticing the dwarf's slurred words and watery eyes he decided it wasn't worth the effort.

"Come now, Oghren! The Commander told us to make our new brother feel welcome, _remember?_" Anders interjected, shooting Oghren a look of warning.

"The Commander is out of her sodding gourd if ye ask me," Oghren growled at the mage before shooting Nathaniel a scathing glare. "Just be glad I wasn't with her in the dungeons last night, Howe. Ye touch her again and I'll plant my war axe in yer sodding forehead."

"So you're her champion, then?" Nathaniel asked, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Ha! As if she would need one. Falcon's seen more frontline action then the rest of us put together."

"'Falcon, is it?" Nathaniel asked, a small smile tugging up one side of his mouth.

"Oghren fought with the Commander during the blight. It is only natural that he—hold on. She didn't tell you her name?" Anders asked incredulously.

Nathaniel shook his head, confused by the look the two Wardens exchanged at this information.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"It's no matter," Anders replied hastily. "Just a bit surprising, is all. Then again from what I hear your conversation last night wasn't exactly the 'warm and fuzzy' kind."

"You could say that," Nathaniel murmured before turning back to Oghren. "You needn't worry, dwarf. I've taken my oath. No matter what you may think of me, I am a man of my word."

Oghren grunted in what he believed to be approval.

"Tell me, Nathaniel…do you always dine armed?" Anders asked after awhile, eyeing the bow strapped to his back.

"No," he replied, a little embarrassed. "I wasn't sure what would be expected of me once I left my quarters. Answers were not exactly forthcoming last night."

"Oooh, did you get the same non-answer prattle as we did? Sure! I'll save you from those apostate-hunting bastards, but here! Drink some darkspawn blood instead! I swear I thought I was going to end up on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my smallclothes and a tattoo on my forehead," Anders said.

"I don't know what yer yammerin' about. Sure, it had a bit of an aftertaste, but I got a nice buzz off the stuff," Oghren interjected. "Didn't even pass out like 'ye knobby-kneed nug-humpers."

"Yes well, we can't all be as stylish as _you_, Oghren," Anders quipped.

"That's why the ladies keep comin' back for more," he said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair, letting out a loud belch in the process.

Nathaniel just stared, thinking that this had to be the oddest conversation he had ever been a part of.

"_Any_-ways, the Commander says we have the day to ourselves but we're to set out in the morning. Apparently darkspawn have been seen near the Turnoble Estate and the family seeks aid," Anders continued, ignoring the dwarf.

Nathaniel nodded once in understanding. The 'killing of darkspawn' aspect of being a Grey Warden he understood well enough, but beyond that he didn't really know anything about the Order. He said as much to Anders, who simply shrugged in return. It seemed that if he wanted answers he would have to find the Commander. _Falcon, _he reminded himself, finding that he needed to place a name with the face. _What an odd name_, he thought. From the inflection in her voice it was obvious that she was well bred, perhaps even noble, but he could not recall ever meeting a 'Falcon' at any of the supernaturally boring events he had been made to attend as a youth.

"Where is the Commander, exactly?" he heard himself ask as he stared out of the window. He could see a fair portion of the courtyard below from his seat, providing him a good view of the people coming and going.

"The Falcon's been up for hours," Oghren said with a disgusted snort. "She was sortin' through some supplies that came in from Highever when Varel showed up, lookin' like he was gettin' ready to recite the entire history of the Tevinter Imperium. Nearly pissed my pants seein' the look on his face when she took off on that hot-blooded beast of hers. Classic!"

As if Oghren's words had conjured her up he spotted her. She had just passed through the gates on a magnificent piece of horseflesh, effortlessly changing gates as they slowed to an easy trot. Her mount was a long-legged blue roan with black stockings, tail and main. She was an exceptional rider from what he could see; steed and master blending together as if they were one entity. As though to prove his point she leaped gracefully from the horse's back before the animal had even come to a full stop, warmly greeting Garevel who had been pacing in front of the stables until she pulled up. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu swept over Nathaniel, making his stomach clench in response. _Odd that, _he thought as he watched her walk away with the Captain, deep in conversation. His brow furrowed in uncertainty. Why on earth would this feel so familiar?

"—Certainly have our work cut out for us. I mean…there's the Commander…and then there's _us_; a drunken dwarf, an apostate, and an ex-noble with a chip on his shoulder against a horde of darkspawn? And not just any darkspawn…_intelligent_ darkspawn," Anders was saying.

"Hell, it worked during the blight and there were only two Grey Wardens then," Oghren replied.

"Wait—we're the _only_ Grey Wardens?" Nathaniel interjected. "Where are the others? And what's this about intelligent darkspawn?"

"You don't know? Course you don't. They all died in the darkspawn attack," Anders replied, filling Nathaniel in on the details of the night the Commander arrived at the Keep and how he and Oghren came to be recruited.

"And this darkspawn actually spoke?" Nathaniel asked incredulously once Anders had finished his tale.

"Heard him myself before Falcon filleted him. Pretty piece of work, that. Makes my eyes tear up just thinking about it," Anders replied.

"Oy! What's all the commotion?" a soldier yelled from across the room, startling all three of them.

Nathaniel had noticed the growing activity in the courtyard as their conversation had progressed but had paid no heed to it.

"Didn't you hear?" another soldier said from the doorway. "The Commander's agreed to a demonstration out in the courtyard!"

Oghren and Ander's exchanged a quick glance then jumped from their seats and hurried after the excited soldiers. Nathaniel had no choice but to follow after them, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn't understand the near maniacal anticipation that surrounded him. One would think the men here had never seen a sparring match before. As they walked he heard snippets of conversation floating around him.

"They say she defeated Loghain in single-handed combat…"

"I heard she took on two ogres by herself…"

"Saw her wipe out a whole room of darkspawn, I did…"

The hero worship poured from every direction, disgusting and intriguing him in even intervals. How could one woman be worth so much fuss? When they entered the courtyard he could see her petite form pacing confidently in front of a small group of new recruits, all youths with varying expressions of fear and wonder. Instead of the armor she had worn the night before she had dawned a snug pair of soft leather trousers with a matching corset and a light tunic that exposed her toned arms. The ensemble was topped off by a brightly colored sash tied jauntily around her waist. Despite himself, Nathaniel's eyes traveled over her length, appreciating the way her outfit accentuated her figure, hugging her curves like a second skin. When his stomach tightened in reaction he dismissed it as a sign that he'd been without a woman for far too long. He could not deny that she was attractive, but neither could he afford the distraction. _She killed your Father, _her reminded himself as they neared the sparring ground.

"That's strange. Doesn't the Commander usually fight with two blades?" he heard Anders ask from somewhere just behind him.

"He-he, must be tryin' to take it easy on the greens," Oghren slurred.

Nathaniel noticed that she was, in fact, carrying only a single training foil. He could hear her strong voice carrying over the heads of the observers that were still trickling in from just about every part of the keep.

"Dueling is an art, and should be practiced as such. I like to think of it as a dance. Your body is the music, and your weapon the dancer," she said as she walked over to one of the young men sitting near the front of the group. "Armand, isn't it? I hear you are quite talented. Will you agree to fight?"

"With pleasure," Armand responded in a heavy Orlesian accent, performing a flowery bow as he stood. He was a slim man with honey colored hair slicked back in a neat queue. He wore a gaudy, vividly colorful outfit that was typical for an Orlesian...both elaborate and ornate, the more dramatic the better.

Falcon bowed in return before walking to the middle of the training circle, Armand following behind her, stripping his embroidered jacket and throwing it to the side of the field with an exaggerated flare. She toed a training foil that was on the ground, expertly flipping it in the air with a swift kick. Armand caught it with a chuckle, theatrically waving it in the air as he readied himself.

"Attack," Falcon commanded.

Armand eyed her curiously, waiting for her to raise her weapon as was customary, but she simply stood there, a saucy smile crossing her lips. Finally he took the initiative, raising his foil dramatically and lunging forward in a swift, practiced motion. She easily evaded the strike as well as the next, ducked a high blow and jumped over a low one, and so it went as Falcon twisted her body away from Armand's blade, twirling and flowing around him like water. It almost looked like she really was dancing with the man. When she finally did raise her weapon their blades crashed with a resounding clang that echoed off the walls. Soon the air was tinged with the sound of metal against metal as they dueled in earnest. Falcon had not lied; the boy was indeed talented and well aware of the fact if the smug look on his face said anything. They both fought with an ease that only came with years of practice and a grace born of pure, natural talent. They were well matched. Their blades moved faster and faster as they each tried to disarm the other, and soon Nathaniel could see nothing but a blur of light flashing off of the steel foils. Suddenly Falcon knocked the weapon from Armand's hand, and with one fluid motion she caught it with her free hand and crossed both blades in front of the young man's neck.

"Well played, my friend," she said to Armand as she uncrossed the foils and bowed to him once again.

"How did you do that?" he breathed, shock written across his face.

"Even the most skilled swordsman can be disarmed by a maneuver he doesn't know. You must study your opponent carefully, even amidst a battle, in order to interpret his next move. Shall I tell you what I have learned of you while we dueled?" she asked him.

Armand nodded, obviously intrigued.

"You trained to be a Chevalier in Val Royeux but grew up closer to the border…Jader I believe. You are left-handed, but fight with your right; a habit no doubt formed after breaking your left arm during your training. Oh, and you play the lute in your free time, am I right?" she said.

"Yes, you are correct…but how?" Armand replied, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

"Your accent, of course, is Orlesian. My father often dealt with traders from Jader and I became quite familiar with the regional dialect over the years. You have a signet ring with the chevalier crest, a token given only to those who have completed their training at the compound in Val Royeux. As for the broken arm, you have a scar on the inside of your forearm that suggests a particularly bad break. Such an injury would be unlikely to heal properly, and I could tell by your stance that your left side is your dominant side."

"Impressive to be sure, but how did you know that I play the lute?"

"I could smell the polishing oil on your hands. A good friend of mine plays the lute and I recognized the scent."

"Most impressive, indeed," Armand laughed as he performed another flowery bow.

"Thank you, Armand, for participating. I enjoyed it thoroughly," she replied, shooting him a friendly smile before turning to hand both foils back to an attendant that had been standing patiently to the side of the ring.

A buzz went through the crowd in the meantime, some men simply walking away as it seemed the fun was over. The duel had only lasted minutes and most of the crowd had expected more from the sport they had been promised. Oghren, ever ready to speak his mind, was the first to instigate an encore.

"Hey Commander! What happened? I thought you were going to show us some _real_ fightin'," he called drunkenly, causing some of the surrounding men to shout in agreement.

Falcon cocked an eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged at her with a look of innocence on his face.

"You're right, I did. Shall we have a card game, then? 'Ace of Tens' perhaps?" she called with a grin, raising her voice to address the entire crowd.

The buzz amongst the men grew louder, some of them hooting in excitement at this news.

"What is an 'Ace of Tens?'?" Nathaniel asked Oghren.

"I only saw her do it once before, in court," he replied with a chuckle, obviously amused by her selection. "Ten volunteers are chosen of varying experience and abilities. They are given weapons and are told to attack at random intervals. The last standing is the winner."

As Oghren explained Falcon had approached Garevel and was currently deep in discussion with the man. From the look on his face the Captain was _not_ happy with the turn of events, but eventually she walked away volunteers were selected and were drawing lots for weapons as she strolled once again to the center of the ring. With a deep breath she rolled her shoulders and closed her eyes.

"What is she doing?" Nathaniel asked.

"Beats me," Oghren replied with a shrug.

"Oghren…she's unarmed."

"He- he, not for long," the dwarf replied, obviously amused by his own words.

Nathaniel shook his head in disbelief. As the volunteers gathered around Falcon in a wide circle, he could only come to one conclusion. _She's mad, _he thought. _Completely and unquestionably out of her mind. _

A hush fell over the crowd in anticipation, the Commander still standing in a relaxed position with her eyes closed. For a few strained moments the only sounds that could be heard in the courtyard were a soft gust of wind and the cry of a bird in the distance. Nathaniel's heart was pounding in his ears, his fingers twitching reflexively at his sides.

Suddenly, the first opponent approached from behind her, slow at first but gaining momentum as he raised the dagger in his hand above his head. He was bearing down on her and yet she had not moved. Nathaniel's ears were ringing as he desperately told himself to hold still. Time seemed to slow as the soldier began lowering his weapon to strike.

At the last moment she leaned to her left, grabbing the man's arm at the same time. His momentum and her quick reaction effectively gave her leverage to throw him clean over her shoulder to land with a dull thud on the ground in front of her. She plucked the dagger from the man's hands only to block the next attacker, a soldier with a sword and a shield. They sparred, Falcon blocking and ducking as the man used both as weapons. She easily knocked the sword from his hand and then latched onto his shield, spinning him sideways and then ramming the shield into his chin, taking him off guard long enough for her to crouch and sweep a leg under his own. The man went down like a ton of bricks, grunting as he fell. She had only enough time to block her next opponent from her crouched position. Their weapons met with a harsh clang, making her lose her balance to topple over onto her back. Instead of floundering she used the fall to roll back and flip up onto her feet. Her opponent attacked again, desperately swinging the maul in his hand, only to come in contact with air over and over again. She finally kicked the weapon from his clutch and threw her fist into his chest, stunning him. Although he had been given a weapon specifically for this exercise, the soldier had forgotten to discard his personal blades, which were currently still sheathed at his waste. She had taken notice of this from the first and had used his current state to relieve him of them. With a swift movement she pulled the blades free, twirling them theatrically in her hands before round-housing the poor bastard into the dirt to join his fellows.

Five men approached her now, surrounding her like vultures. They each had matching smug expressions on their faces, believing that their numbers would make her falter. A wicked smile spread across her face as they tightened the circle around her. With an almost unnatural grace Falcon arched backwards, bending her body nearly in half as she twisted her torso in a circle, her blades flashing as she swiftly disarmed each man. Then just as quickly she flipped onto her hands, kicking out her legs until every last one of them lay groaning on the ground. She flipped back onto her feet and raised her blades in a defensive stance as she waited for her last two opponents to come for her.

They attacked her simultaneously, each from opposite directions of the field. She fought both of them for a time, ducking, jumping and blocking at the appropriate intervals, but she soon wearied of the game. She intricately circled the blades in her hands, a trick meant to confuse the direction of her target. With a quick snap of her arm she elbowed the man behind her in the face, dropping him to the ground and leaving the last man in front of her.

He was twice her size and armed with two full-sized swords. It didn't take long to realize that he was both experienced and skilled, and had the added bonus of superior strength. Their sparring was frenzied and erratic, both fighters beginning to sweat with their exertion. Nathaniel could hear bets being exchanged behind him and then changed again when the tides began to turn. Falcon was quickly losing ground. He had circled her to the edge of the crowd, the men standing there wisely parting as it became apparent that they were concentrating too intensely to pay any notice to their placement. The man continued to back her until she was cornered between two wooden pillars holding up a portion of an overhang that led into Wade's armory. Her opponent smirked, seeing the table of wares positioned behind her and the pillars on either side of her. There was nowhere for her to go. With a powerful thrust he shoved her into the table, laughing as he raised his blades. Falcon glanced up once, and then retaliated by pushing out with her full body weight, causing the man to stumble back a couple of crucial steps. She leaped up, bouncing her weight from one pillar to the other until she had climbed high enough to flip over his head, twisting in the air until she landed softly on her feet behind him. Before he could turn she kicked the back of his legs, causing him to fall to his knees and drop his weapons with a cry of surprise. She leaned down and pressed her blade to his throat.

"Do you yield?" she asked through ragged gasps of air.

"Aye," he answered after a moment. "That I do."

And then it was over. She helped the man to his feet, the both of them laughing as he brushed the dirt off of his knees.

Her face was flushed with exertion, her smile wide and genuine as she slapped the man on the back good-naturedly. Nathaniel continued to stare as the rest of the crowd began to disperse, a few stopping to congratulate Falcon on her well-deserved victory. He was nonplussed and grudgingly impressed by her performance. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that the Commander was a force to be reckoned with.

"I saw her first," Anders said low in his ear, interrupting his train of thought with a jab in the ribs.

Nathaniel scowled at the mage, but let the comment pass.

_She killed your father! Took your home, and destroyed your family! _A voice chanted in the back of his mind. _And then allowed me to live, _he reminded the voice as he watched her from across the sparring grounds.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Nathaniel found his feet taking him towards her instead of back into the keep with the others as he intended. He didn't even know what he was going to say or do; all he knew was that he needed answers. She was still speaking to her last opponent when he approached.

"You gave me quite the battle, sir. Had it gone on any longer I would have lost," Falcon said laughingly. "Might I know your name?"

"Henry, my Lady. And in all honesty, I would not have lasted much longer myself. Your reputation is well deserved," Henry replied with a deep bow.

"Please don't," she said, raising him from his stance. With a smile she placed a small leather pouch in Henry's hand with a telling clinking sound. "Your reward, Ser Henry, for your skill and bravery. You have earned it."

"Thank you, my Lady," Henry replied, wide-eyed with surprise. "You are as generous as you are kind."

"Honor protect you," she said to the man, grasping his arm in a warrior's salute. Henry returned the gesture and then stepped away with a smile of gratitude. Before Nathaniel could reach her, an excited youth stepped in front of him, demanding the Commander's attention.

"How do you fight like that? Is there a trick to it? Tell me!" the boy cried, bouncing energetically on the balls of his feet.

"Skill and years of practice," Falcon replied, the side of her mouth tipping up in mild amusement as she accepted a dipper of water from a nearby page. Nathaniel found himself momentarily hypnotized as she splashed the water across her heated skin before refilling the dipper and taking a long drink from it.

"Can you teach me? I can learn, I swear I can!" the youth insisted.

"How old are you boy?" she asked as she handed the dipper back to the page and dismissed him.

"Old enough," he retorted, wrinkling his nose in indignation.

Falcon laughed and mussed his hair in an affectionate gesture, which only made the boy screw his face up all he more.

"No doubt you are, lad, but I don't make a habit of recruiting a man before he's had his first beard."

"But how am I ever going to become a warden?" the boy whined.

Something in his youthful, earnest face must have spoken to Falcon, for her expression immediately changed. She eyed the boy intently, the smile that had just been wreathing her face disappearing altogether as she sighed heavily.

"Do not wish to become like me, lad. It is a difficult life, filled with more adversity than you should ever have to face." When the boy just stared at her blankly, Falcon leaned down until she was eye-to-eye with him. "A warden is a weapon, born of blood and honed by sacrifice. He must place his duty first, to devote his life to his brothers and to his oath, and to face each day with the knowledge that it could be his last. That is why I fight as I do, and that is why you should not."

The boy opened his mouth as if to reply, but promptly closed it again as her words seeped in. He eyed her speculatively as if to see if she was bluffing, but when he realized that she was serious his face lost all its color. Falcon smiled at him sadly, touching him once on the shoulder before shooting Nathaniel a look that said, _not now, _before turning to walk away.

"Was that necessary?" Nathaniel called after her.

Falcon stopped in her tracks, her spine stiffening at the sound of his voice. When she looked back at him over her shoulder he could clearly see the tamped anger in the way she pinched her mouth and the narrowing of her eyes.

"Wasn't it? Should I have encouraged him then?" she asked him.

"He's just a kid," Nathaniel said lamely, faltering under the accusation snapping clearly in her eyes.

"Some truths are best learned early," she replied and then walked away before he could react.

Nathaniel stood there for a time, mulling over her words. What horrors would a man...or woman in this case...have to face to adopt such an extreme attitude? He couldn't understand it or her for that matter. One thing, however, _had_ become certain...there was far more to the Warden-Commander than Nathaniel ever thought possible.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Ah, Putrefaction" by Hans Zimmer (Sherlock Holmes OST); "The Fencing Lesson" by James Horner (Mask of Zorro OST); "The Duel" by Harry Gregson-Williams (Prince Caspian OST); "Bang a Gong (Get it On)" by T. Rex; "Await the King's Justice" by Ramin Djawadi (Game of Thrones OST)._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 - First Day**

Early the next morning Alyx found herself waiting in the courtyard for the others to appear, looking every inch the Commander as she sat proudly atop of her horse, Valkyrie. Outwardly the only indication of her impatience was the subtle set of her jaw and the tapping of her long fingers against the pommel of her saddle. Inwardly she was seething

_Where the bloody hell are they? I told them to be ready and waiting by the end of the morning chant, and the sisters stopped singing their prayers half an hour ago!_

Valkyrie shook her head nervously and huffed, sensing her mistress's irritation. Immediately Alyx ran a hand down the roan's speckled grey neck, murmuring soothing words to calm her. She was contemplating going into the Keep after her wayward companions when the trio finally came into view. Oghren and Anders were already bickering and Nathaniel was walking several paces behind them, wearing a typical look of disgust.

"What part of 'Meet me in the courtyard at sun-up' did you three not understand?" she demanded once they were within ear shot.

Their initial response was sullen silence, followed by shuffling feet and throats being cleared. Oghren's jaw hung open, Anders rubbed at the back of his neck nervously and Nathaniel looked everywhere but directly at her. She wanted to scream in frustration. _They're like a pack of small boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar! _It was Oghren who had finally found the courage to respond.

"Err, sorry Commander. We were just—"

"I don't care _what_ you were doing. When I give you an order I expect you to follow it," she replied in deceivingly soft tones.

They each mumbled their apologies, making Alyx huff in frustration. _It is going to be a very, _very_ long day, _she thought as she rubbed at her temples.

"Hey, we're riding?" Anders asked, changing the topic as he spied the three mounts standing at the ready next to hers.

"We are," she said with a curt nod.

Each horse had already been tacked up and carried saddlebags filled with much needed supplies, a luxury in comparison to her travels during the blight. Alyx had handpicked each horse specifically to fit her companion's riding abilities…or lack thereof, whatever may be the case.

For Anders she had chosen a steady bay mare that wouldn't throw a half-crazed Qunari let alone a nervous mage. By the uneasy expression on his face, Alyx had guessed correctly at the level of his exposure to horses.

For Oghren she had selected a spotted pony. She had to hold back a laugh when the dwarf took one look at it and immediately went into a fit about the beast being a comment on his size.

"It'll be a shorter distance to the ground if you fall out of the saddle in a drunken stupor," Alyx explained with a shrug.

"Good point," Oghren mumbled before stiffly climbing into the saddle.

For Nathaniel she had chosen a jet-black stallion that danced enthusiastically on its long, graceful legs when he approached it.

"What's his name?" he asked.

"Sirocco," she replied softly.

"Sirocco," he repeated, rubbing a hand down the horse's glossy neck, admiration in his eyes as he inspected the beast with an experienced eye.

He expertly swung up into the saddle, allowing the stallion to shift excitedly underneath his weight. Alyx smiled to herself. She remembered that he had been an admirable rider in his youth. Sirocco was high-spirited and needed someone who could handle him properly. She believed that he had both the skill and the patience.

Before he could take the reins Sirocco sidled up to Valkyrie and playfully nudged at the other horse's nose with a soft whinny. Nathaniel looked up at Falcon and arched an eyebrow in question.

"Sirocco is Valkyrie's foal, it is only natural," she said with another shrug.

"Why would you lend me such a valuable animal?" he asked slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"I did not _lend_ him to you, Nathaniel. He is yours now."

"But—"

"Do not look a gift horse in the mouth," she replied in mock reproach, a smile finally tugging at her lips.

She waited patiently to see how he would respond, unsure of how he would take her offering. Last night as she had collected her thoughts she realized that she would be spending a great deal of time with this man, and it was best for everybody concerned if they could find some semblance of peace between them. How could she trust him to have her back…and she his…if they were to continue in this vein? She watched as his expression changed from surprise to speculation to curiosity before falling into a polite mask.

"Thank you," he muttered eventually, relieving the fear that had begun to build in her chest.

It was a small step, but an important one…or so she believed.

All four of them were in the saddle and ready to go when a shout from the gates stopped them.

"Commander! A runner approaches!" one of the guardsman shouted shortly before a small, wiry man sprinted through the gates.

Alyx dismounted as the man approached, grabbing her water skin from her saddle bag to offer to the exhausted runner. He took it gratefully, taking a moment to drink and to gather himself enough to speak.

"Thank you, my Lady. I'm right glad I caught you!" he began between deep gasps of air. "I have a letter from my master, Ser Edgar Bensley. His daughter Eileen has been taken by bandits! They demand a ransom, but it is a great sum…too great I fear for his meager income. He didn't know where else to turn."

Alyx read the note quickly, her lips pursing in thought. She nodded once before rolling the missive up and placing it inside her hip bag.

"Tell your master that I will aid him. For your trouble," she said, slipping a sovereign into the man's hand.

"T-thank you, my Lady!" the man stuttered, utter shock written across his face as he stared at the gold piece winking in his palm.

She nodded once again before turning back to her horse, swinging herself back into the saddle. With a sharp whistle she gathered the reins and kicked Valkyrie forward in one graceful movement, the others shortly following suit. Hector darted out of the keep, barking excitedly, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he ran to catch up with the riders.

"So…Forlorn Cove, is it?" Anders asked once they had reached the main road.

"No. We stay our course to the Trunoble Estate. _Then_ we'll see about this kidnapping business," she answered, her face set in grim but determined lines.

"But you just said—"

"I know what I said!" she snapped, immediately shooting Anders and apologetic look. "If it's a ransom they want, they'll keep her alive; at least for the time being. Darkspawn, on the other hand, waits for no man."

Anders blinked at her response, but nodded in agreement as he allowed his horse to fall back behind hers. _Snap out of it!_ She told herself. _How will they trust you if you keep barking at them like a rabid mabari? _

For the thousandth time she wished Alistair was there, keeping her steady and focused as he always had. It wasn't until he was gone that she realized how much she had depended on him. He had been her rock. Her one ray of sunshine in a world colored black by the darkspawn. No matter how bad things had gotten, he'd always been there to pull her back from the brink.

_What would he say if he saw me now? _She thought.

He would shoot her 'the look'; the one he normally reserved for Morrigan. _Taking Lessons from the Witch now, are we? _He would say, shaking his head in disappointment, and he would be right. She owed her brothers better than this.

_I'll try, my love, _she thought. _But they're certainly not making it easy for me! _

She could almost hear him chuckling at that and yearned for the sound of it, though she knew it to be impossible. Instead she heard Oghren begin to warble one of his raunchy, horribly out-of-key tunes. She couldn't help but smile at the familiar words as he sang:

_In Lothering town at the sign of the plough,_

_There lived a nugcatcher, shall I tell you how?_

_He'd go a nugcatching from morning to night,_

_And a young fellow came for to play with his wife._

_The nugcatcher jealous of this very same thing,_

_He hid in the wash house to see him come in,_

_He saw the young fellow come over the stile,_

_Which caused the nugcatcher so crafty to smile,_

_He knocked on the door and thus he did say,_

_"Where is your husband, good woman, I pray?"_

_"He's gone a-nugcatching, you need never fear,"_

_But little did she think the nugcatcher was near._

_She went up the stairs and gave him the sign,_

_And the nugcatcher followed them quickly behind._

_And while the young fellow was up to his frolics,_

_The nugcatcher caught him right fast by his bollocks._

_The trap it squeezed tighter, which caused him to smile_

_Saying, "Here's the best nug that I've caught in a while."_

_"I'll make you pay dearly for tilling my hold,_

_And the money it'll cop you no less than ten gold."_

_"Ten gold," says the young fellow, "That I don't mind,_

_It only works out about two bits a grind"_

_So come all you young fellows and mind what you're at,_

_And don't get 'em caught in the nugcatcher's trap._

"Are you _trying_ to alert every darkspawn within a five mile radius to our presence? Or is it just me?" Anders complained.

"Do _you_ sense any darkspawn?" Oghren retorted, scowling at the mage.

"Well...no, but I hardly know what I'm attempting to sense now, do I?"

"You'll know," Alyx interjected.

"If we're going to have to listen to more bawdy tunes, I'd rather hear them from you, my dear Commander. Do you know of any?" Anders crooned.

"Yes."

"Brilliant! Will you sing us one, then?"

"No."

"I think you've been hangin' around Sten too long, Falcon," Oghren grunted.

"And _you've_ been hanging around Zevran too long," she replied sweetly.

"Ha! At least the pointy-eared bastard knows his booze."

"Amongst other things," she mumbled in reply. "Shall I tell him the next time I see him that he's gained an admirer in you?"

"No! I mean—Sod it, that's not funny Falcon!" Oghren cried, his face turning nearly as red as his hair.

"Don't play with fire unless you want to get burned, son," Alyx replied in the best imitation of Oghren's voice that she could manage.

It was something he had said to Anders earlier while they were in the midst of arguing, and Alyx couldn't help but throw it back in his face. Anders was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of the saddle. Oghren, however, could only mutter colorfully under his breath. She did her best not to laugh, but couldn't help but chuckle a little, garnering an odd look from Nathaniel though he had been silent throughout the exchange.

_Odd that, _she thought, unsure of what to think of it.

They traveled at a steady pace, breaking midday for a brief respite. The small clearing they found was perfectly situated, offering a stream to water the horses and a fallen, moss-covered tree for them to sit upon. The others were already dismounting, but Alyx took a moment to enjoy the soft breeze playing through her hair, causing the tendrils that had come undone from her tightly coiled tresses to rise off her sweat-drenched neck. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the heavenly sensation. She had forgotten how hot armor could get in the midday sun, even leathers such as hers.

When she looked up she could see Nathaniel walking towards her, but had only a moment to wonder what he was about. Hector blocked his passage, growling deep in his throat, bearing his razor-sharp teeth menacingly as his ears flattened and the fur stood straight up on his back.

"No, Hector! Calm!" she cried, jumping down from the saddle to crouch in front of the mabari. She took Hector's massive head in both her hands and stared him straight in the eye as she spoke to him. "Nathaniel is a _friend_. You don't attack friends."

Nathaniel blinked, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Hector whined at her tone of voice, but she knew that he would obey her command.

"Sorry," she said, turning to Nathaniel. "Force of habit. He should accept you now."

"Force of habit?" Nathaniel repeated gravely, making her inwardly flinch.

_I really said that out loud? _She thought.

"I wouldn't ask if I were you," Oghren grumbled beside him.

Alyx shot the dwarf a pointed look that said, _mind your own business. _

What was she supposed to tell Nathaniel? That Hector was used to killing men associated with the Howe crest? That Nathaniel most likely smelled enough like his dead father to put the dog on his guard? _That would go over real well, _she thought. It didn't take long for her to realize that he had figured it out, at least in part. He turned to walk away, but not fast enough for her to miss the dark anger creep across his features. Unsurprisingly he chose to eat at a distance from the rest of the group, any remnants of budding camaraderie gone.

They were soon back on the road, Alyx and Hector at the front closely followed by Oghren and Anders, leaving Nathaniel to bring up the rear. At first Anders and Oghren tried to pull Nathaniel into their conversation (well Anders mostly…Oghren spent most of his time trying to pick fights with him) but they gave in when it became clear that he planned to remain taciturn. Alyx couldn't blame him and stayed silent for the most part as well, to the annoyance of their more boisterous companions.

She _should_ be working out the darkspawn threat in the long hours of travel, but she found herself brooding over Nathaniel instead. It occurred to her that it might make things easier between them if she told him who she was and why she had been forced to kill his father.

_And what a cheery conversation _that_ would be, _she thought. _Hullo Nathaniel, did I forget to mention that I'm a Cousland? You might remember me as Fergus's bratty little sister…by the by, your father had my family murdered, are we even now? _

Besides, she could not trust her own reaction. Though most of her anger over the events at Highever had faded once she had fulfilled her vendetta, she knew it would not take much for him to spark the flames of her temper. He had a particular talent for it.

Time passed slowly, the landscape hardly changing over the miles. Oghren was getting drunker by the hour and Anders cockier with every well-placed quip. Had she not been in such a sour mood Alyx might even enjoy their company, but the strain of the trip was already beginning to wear on her. As the sun began to dip she realized that they would be reaching their destination soon.

No sooner did she think this than the first familiar vibrations began to creep across her skin. Stiffening in the saddle, she brought Valkyrie to a halt, holding up a fist to signal the others to do the same.

"What's up, Commander?" Anders asked from behind her.

"Darkspawn, just ahead."

"I don't feel anything."

"You won't at first. Your senses will strengthen with time," she said distractedly.

"How many do you suppose—"

"A dozen, maybe more. We should walk from here," she interrupted, dismounting as she spoke.

The others followed suit, walking their mounts to the protection of a small grove of trees. She signaled for them to be silent as they continued on foot, their weapons drawn in anticipation.

There was a bend in the road ahead of them leading to a stone archway with the word "Trunoble" etched in a small wooden plaque that hung above the entrance. Directly next to the sign was a painfully familiar warning of darkspawn infestation…two bodies dangling from ropes tied around their necks. Cold fury poured into her at the sight. She knew before they even entered the estate that they arrived too late.

_No! _She inwardly screamed. _This is not how this is supposed to go, not again… _

Somewhere inside her mind the gates holding her wrath in check snapped open, coloring the world in an odd sepia tinge as she gave herself over to it. She felt the strangest calm as they entered the estate and saw the darkspawn waiting for them there. She only vaguely noticed Oghren sprint past her with an excited war cry as he swept his axe through the air like a half-crazed Chasind. Her hair stood on end when a ball of lightning rolled past her and slammed into a hurlock a few feet away. The part of her mind that was aware of this suggested that she have a long talk with Anders about working on his aim. Still she walked forward, hardly noticing the automatic movements of her arms as darkspawn charged her, falling easily beneath her blades.

She heard the ogre even before she saw it, roaring and stomping like a gigantic child having a tantrum. The ugly brute was in a wheat field just ahead of her and to her right. Hector was already circling it, nipping at its enormous ankles. Alyx gracefully vaulted the wooden fence that led into the field and whistled sharply through her teeth to get the ogre's attention. Its massive, horned head twisted towards her in reaction, followed by the rest of its body when it realized she was more of a challenge than the mabari. It snarled at her, exposing its sharp, yellow, slime-coated teeth before ducking its head in a position she knew all too well. As the ogre charged she took up a similar pose and ran straight towards it with a feral cry of her own. Before they butted heads she dropped to her knees, sliding between its legs and thrusting out with her blades as she cleared them, effectively hamstringing the ogre and dropping it to its knees with a roar. Wasting no time, Alyx jumped on its back and slit its throat before it could retaliate. She was back on the other side of the fence before the ogre even hit the ground.

The battle was nearly over now, darkspawn corpses littering the ground before her. She noticed a genlock close by that was not quite dead, flailing on the ground like an upturned beetle. She walked over to the beast and stepped down on its throat with one booted foot, twisting hard until she heard a satisfying crack that ceased its struggles. Yet another genlock was running towards her full tilt, its beady little eyes flashing as it laughed at her maliciously. She calmly stepped over the darkspawn corpse in front of her and with a brutal, practiced move she thrust both blades into the genlock's chest full to the hilt. She let the genlock dangle there sickeningly for a moment before twisting the blades even further to cause it more pain, and then pulled them free with a sharp movement that sent the genlock's body tumbling backwards into the dirt. Alyx could sense one more approaching from behind, a hurlock, or so she guessed. Without looking she flipped her swords in her hands and thrust them behind her, feeling the impact immediately as the darkspawn cried out in pain. She pulled her blades free and with a quick twirl decapitated the monster.

Silence followed but Alyx could still feel eyes on her. She turned her head to see her comrades staring at her, their expressions a strange mixture of horror, awe and confusion. She wondered why they would be looking at her like that, but with the rage still burning through her veins she didn't give it a lot of thought. The words _too late_ still pounded in her ears as she wiped the black blood from her blades.

The bodies of the farmer and his family were scattered just outside the dooryard. It looked like they had tried to run, but were struck down before they even made it to the gate. _Poor, oblivious fools, _she thought sourly as she shook her head. She felt the others approach behind her, but refused to turn lest they see her haunted expression.

_Why am I always too late?_

"Search the bodies, darkspawn and humans alike, and then carry them all to the barn and set it ablaze. I'll search the house for anything useful," she told them in a cold, dead voice.

"You wish to strip these people of their worldly possessions…and then burn them together with the darkspawn corpses?" Nathaniel asked incredulously. Alyx snapped her head around to glare at him.

"I'm sorry that you find this all so very distasteful _my Lord,_ but leave me give you a piece of advice," she hissed at him in fury. "Forget everything you know of what is right and wrong. Grey Wardens do what they must to protect our world from the darkspawn. It isn't always pretty, and it isn't always moral, but it _is_ always in the best interest of Fereldan and her people."

Her outburst was met with heavy silence, her companions all wearing similar expressions of shock. Alyx struggled to keep the tears from coming, glancing up at the sky until the piercing behind her eyes receded.

"Let me know when it is done," she added finally before storming to the farmhouse, nearly yanking the door off its hinges as she entered the empty building.

She slammed the door behind her, leaning back against the smooth wood paneling as she desperately gasped for breath. When she was sure that the others didn't intend to follow, she hung her head and wept.

* * *

***Author's Note: **_Oghren's tune is a remix of an old folk song called "The Mole-catcher" that I found on a website dedicated to traditional bawdy tune lyrics. I reworked some of the words to fit better into the DA world, and although I couldn't find any info on whom the original lyricist was, I hope they aren't turning in their graves right now. :) _**Muse tunes: **_"The King of the Golden Hall" by Howard Shore (The Two Towers OST); "School!" by Nicholas Hooper (Half-Blood Prince OST); "The Beginning is the End is the Beginning" by the Smashing Pumpkins._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 –Reflections and Revelations**

_It's raining_…_again, _Nathaniel grumbled to himself three days later as they trotted miserably down yet another mud-drenched excuse for a road. Not that he was really that surprised. This _was_ his homeland after all. Tightening his cloak around his shoulders, he found himself yearning for a dry set of clothes and a bed…a _real_ one with crisp, clean linens, a warm fire on the hearth and…_stop, _he told himself. _You'll drive yourself mad just by fantasizing about such comforts. _

They had only been on the road for four days total, yet it felt far more like an eternity. _And exactly what have we accomplished?_ He scoffed to himself. Any positive thoughts he'd been able to muster about being a Grey Warden had died with the ashes of their first camp fire…though they had been few in number to begin with.

After that first day at the Vigil, Nathaniel had decided to barricade himself behind an invisible wall. It was a decision made as much for everyone else's protection as it was for his own. He was _angry_ at the men that so casually walked through the halls of his home as if they belonged there, he was _angry_ that the choice of his future had been taken from him without even a by-your-leave, and most of all, he was angry at _her_. He had felt the threads of his fury begin to fray ever so slightly that first day after his Joining, when he had witnessed the Commander's casual kindness and generosity, but a larger part of him held onto the cord like a lifeline, strengthening his resolve in the end. He would not buy into her pity, and he would not be affected by the subtle (and not so subtle) jibes that had been thrown in his direction from the soldiers in the Keep.

_Years of service to the kingdom, all to be forgotten because of the lies of one woman,_ he thought maliciously. Many a Howe over the centuries had made their names as heroes, had bled and died, giving everything to the greater good, and it was all for naught. His father had been such a one, fighting at the side of King Maric against the Orlesians, and now he was dead. _All_ of them were dead. He could almost forgive…if there had been some truth to his father's dealings…but it would not explain why the rest of his family had to suffer. _That_ he could never forgive. Their faces haunted his dreams, fueling his rage, ever reminding him of why he was in this damnable position to begin with.

As the days progressed he found it harder to hold onto his resolve. Anders and Oghren were an equal source of entertainment and frustration, and Falcon…well…she kept mostly to herself, though she did take extra pains to be civil to him. He wasn't quite sure why, he could see the inner battle she was waging in her expressive eyes.

It confused him. _He_ was the injured party here, wasn't he?

"There," Falcon said, startling him out of his thoughts. "That rocky precipice will afford us enough cover to build a fire for the night. I know it's early yet, but we can't go much further in this mess."

Nathaniel automatically followed the others as they dismounted and began to set up camp. It was miserable work even without the rain and mud, but they soon had their tents built and a nice fire going. Nathaniel changed into a set of lighter, plain-made leathers that were blessedly dry before joining the others by the fire. Anders was stirring something in a small pot that looked like a thin, brownish paste but smelled delicious, and Oghren was sharpening his war axe, little white rings of smoke rising from a long-necked pipe hanging between his lips. Falcon was nowhere in sight.

He nodded at the others before sitting next to the fire, rubbing his hands in front of the flames to gain some warmth back into his fingers. Before long his mind wandered to the events of the past few days.

He recalled the morning that they had left the Vigil. He had been surprised by her offering of a horse, and even more surprised by the shrewdness of her choice. _Just the sort of beast I would have chosen for myself, _he had thought with a shock upon seeing the stallion. Since then Sirocco had proven to be well trained, and all but a perfect match for his skills. He'd been even more surprised to find out that not only was Sirocco Valkyrie's foal, but she had meant for him to keep him.

"Why would you lend me such a valuable animal?" he had asked her before he could stop himself.

"I did not _lend_ him to you, Nathaniel. He is yours now."

"But—"

"Do not look a gift horse in the mouth," she had replied with a smile tugging at her lips.

The dramatic change that the expression had brought to her face was incredible. It made him realize how rarely she smiled, and wondered why that would be so.

Another thread frayed.

Then a runner had stopped them before they could leave the Vigil. His master's daughter was being held hostage by bandits. They demanded a ransom he could not pay and had nowhere else to turn. Falcon promised aid and slipped the man a sovereign for his troubles, a sum that made Nathaniel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise though the others seemed unaffected by her generosity.

"So…Forlorn Cove, is it?" Anders asked as they continued down the road.

"No. We stay our course to the Trunoble Estate. Then we'll see about this kidnapping business," she had answered flatly.

"But you just said—"

"I know what I said! If it's a ransom they want, they'll keep her alive, at least for the time being. Darkspawn, on the other hand, waits for no man."

It was a sound decision; one Nathaniel could respect.

Yet another thread unwillingly frayed.

And then there was the massacre at Trunoble. His first real test as a Warden.

They had been traveling at a steady pace all day, reaching the road leading to the estate as the sun began its decent. Oghren and Anders were bickering again and Nathaniel had been attempting to ignore them when he noticed the Commander stiffen in her saddle. From there they had dismounted and continued on foot down the dusty road. No sooner had they passed through the gates of the farm-hold then it hit him. He had begun to get used to the low humming in the back of his head caused by the presence of his companions, but it had _not_ prepared him for the dark vibrations that crawled just below the surface of his skin when he first sensed _them. _It had been so sudden that he nearly vomited at the impact.

"Y'Okay, Howe?" Oghren had asked, elbowing him in the side. Nathaniel could only nod in answer as he freed his bow from its tethers.

Pure ciaos had reigned once the darkspawn noticed their presence. At first he shot as fast as he could, but after the nervous energy had worn off he focused his concentration into every arrow he let fly.

They killed the first group rather quickly, but the second included a stronger hierarchy of darkspawn that proved to be more difficult to slay; including a giant, putrid-smelling ogre. He had never seen one up close before, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Falcon approach it alone. And yet…she had taken it down swiftly and without help. Even Hector had backed off when she had charged it. He felt dumbstruck as he watched her jump gracefully off of its back after slitting is throat, nonchalantly hopping the fence as if she had just been taking an afternoon stroll. He watched as she slaughtered one darkspawn after another with brutal efficiency. She killed them without pity, without mercy. There was a calculated coldness to her movements that he could not understand, not until he got a good look at her face and nearly gasped. An empty chasm had opened up inside her eyes that he had never seen before. It darkened them to a pulsing storm of indigo filled with unspeakable pain and fury.

Falcon _hated_ the darkspawn.

And not just the everyday, run-of-the-mill sort of hate that most people had for the brutes. This was finite hate…hate at its absolute purest…fathomless _personal_ hate.

And then it was gone.

After they had done as she commanded and gathered all the bodies to be burned in the barn, she walked stiffly out of the farmhouse and motioned for them to move on without a word. Since then she barely spoke and made a point of staying especially distant from himself…or so Nathaniel thought, though he knew there was a possibility that he was being just a tad bit paranoid. He didn't know _why_ he cared if she was ignoring him, he was _supposed_ to hate her, wasn't he?

The next day they set off for Forlorn Cove. Their business there was short and surprisingly rewarding. Most of the bandits were easily dispatched in comparison to the darkspawn they had faced a couple of days before, and the few that remained threw themselves into the sea rather than face four heavily armed and angry Grey Wardens. That in itself had made it worth the trip (though of course he was glad that they were able to rescue Ser Bensley's daughter). Now they were on their way to Amaranthine.

_Amaranthine. _

Just thinking about the city left him on edge. He hadn't been there for more than a few hours since his return, and that having been at night when the streets were dark and empty. He hadn't had the opportunity to take a good look around then and wondered if it would still feel the same as it did in his youth. Would anyone recognize him? And if they did, how would they react? Would his family's legacy still be in evidence, or sponged away as it had been at the Vigil? So many questions swimming through his head, tumbling and meshing with the whirlpool of emotions that had kept him in turmoil since his return.

Falcon entered their tiny makeshift camp, shaking the excess rain from her cloak. She hadn't bothered to change into dry clothing as the rest of them had, but simply sat by the fire and warmed her hands instead. Hector walked up and plopped down next to her with a noise that came out as something between a sigh and a whine. She chuckled at the dog, bringing out a few small bits of jerky from her hip bag to toss to him. Hector lapped them up eagerly, wagging his nub of a tail in approval.

By then Anders had finished throwing together their meal and was handing them each a bowl of what Nathaniel assumed to be some sort of stew. They sat together in companionable silence as they ate, each too tired and consumed by their own thoughts to make much conversation. They all nearly jumped out of their skin when the sound of an approaching rider breached the tranquil pitter-patter of rain that had been the background music to their meager supper.

The Commander was the first to stand, but didn't reach for her weapons. _So _not_ darkspawn_, Nathaniel thought, though a moment later he realized he would have sensed them if that had been the case. A soldier came around the bend, the Amaranthine coat-of-Arms emblazoned on his heavy cloak and shield. The man relaxed visibly when he spotted their little camp and dismounted a stone's throw from where they were gathered. It was obvious from the soldier's youth and stature that he was no more than a messenger.

"Warden-Commander! I've been sent to find you, by order of Senechal Varel," the boy said authoritatively, pulling a rolled-up missive from his cloak. Falcon accepted the note and looked it over, a frown creasing her brow as she read.

"Bad news?" Anders asked.

"No…well, not exactly. The Nobles wish to pledge their fealty, but they cannot do so until I return to the Vigil. Varel says they're getting 'anxious,' whatever that means," Falcon answered with a very unladylike snort. "You there! You may tell the Senechal that we will stop at the Vigil before proceeding to Amaranthine. Tell him that he should send word for the nobles to gather immediately. My time is too precious to be spent on petty trivialities of the upper crust."

Nathaniel nearly choked on his stew at her words. _Is she mad? _He thought.

"Y-yes, Commander," the soldier stuttered, his face draining of all color.

"Oh, and lad? Don't be afraid to tell him my words _verbatim_. He will know the message is from me, and will not punish _you_ for _my_ cheekiness," she continued with a wicked smile.

"Thank you, my Lady!" he replied, a look of relief spreading across his offered him a repast, but the young soldier declined and was shortly on the road again.

"You do know how important it will be to have the support of the nobility?" Nathaniel asked her cautiously once the soldier was out of ear shot.

"Of course I do," she replied flippantly. "But it doesn't mean I have to like it."

Nathaiel's mouth tightened in disapproval. The fact was that the nobles should be gathering to pledge _him _fealty, and instead they would swear allegiance to a woman who didn't seem to give a _fig _about the Arl-ship. _Bloody brilliant, _he thought.

"Do we have to attend this…pledging ceremony?" Anders asked.

"I'm afraid so. It will be important to present a strong, united front to the nobles of Amaranthine," she replied.

_Strong, united front my arse, _Nathaniel silently snorted to himself.

"Will there be booze?" Oghren interjected.

"Barrels-full," she replied.

"And women?" Anders asked hopefully.

"Yes, but _hands-off_, Anders. You can look, but don't touch the merchandise."

"Jealous, are we?" he drawled, his eyebrows waggling suggestively at her.

"_Terribly_…but I have enough problems without some Lord or Ser banging on my door, demanding the head of the mage that defiled his daughter or sister or niece or what have you," she answered with a wicked grin.

Anders shuddered theatrically, making her chuckle softly from across the fire. Nathaniel noticed how the mage watched her as she stood and turned to walk to her tent, saying a soft good-night to them all before disappearing behind the flaps. _He desires her, _he thought, ignoring the sudden flare of anger in his chest.

"Sooooo, Oghren. You've known the Commander longer than us," Anders began in a low voice.

"Yer point bein'?" Oghren growled.

"What…kind of a man does she usually go for? Tall? Devilishly handsome? Magically inclined?"

Oghren barked with laughter, slapping his knee with his free hand before taking another look at Anders, only to burst out with laughter once again.

"_What?_ I didn't think it was _that_ funny of a question! She's an attractive woman, and well…I just want to know what I'm up against!"

"You don't have a chance in Hades with that one, son," he said finally.

"Why not?"

"The Commander's…emotionally unavailable," Oghren replied carefully.

"Is she married?"

"Well, no—"

"Then I still have a shot!"

"You _do_ recall the fact that she is your superior, mage," Nathaniel interjected.

"_Right._ I'm on to you, Nathaniel Howe. You just want her for yourself," Anders retorted, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Not bloody likely," Nathaniel mumbled with a sneer. "But far be it from me to stop you from making an ass out of yourself."

"I'd jest like te see ye try, you skirt wearin' freak…and fall flat on that pretty face of yers," Oghren added.

"Ha! I'll show you, my smelly little friend. It won't be long before those long, delicious legs of hers will be wrapped around my waist like a Brecilian pretzel. Then _I'll_ be the one who's laughing…and moaning if I have my way."

"Care to make a wager on it, twinkle-fingers?" Oghren said. "I have fifty silver that says she turns ye' down flat."

"You're on dwarf," Anders replied, shaking hands on the bet. Nathaniel could only roll his eyes and attempt to ignore the two of them for the rest of the night.

They arrived at the Vigil early the next afternoon. Senechal Varel had been less than pleased with the Commander's "message" but had assured her that the nobles would be gathered in the Great Hall that very evening.

Nathaniel enjoyed a leisurely bath in his chambers, but soon found himself pacing. He supposed a part of his restlessness was due to his time in the Free Marches. Rarely had he slept or ate under a roof over the last several years. Instead his life had been a stream of constant activity; hunting, fishing, scouting…and the occasional mercenary work when it was available. It was surreal to be under a roof again, but he knew it was more than that. He didn't want to attend the ceremony tonight. Being back at the Vigil without his family present was painful enough, but having to witness his Father's vassals pledge fealty to another…it was too much to bear.

Nathaniel threw on a light tunic, breeches and boots before stalking out of his room. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to walk. He found himself strolling through the courtyard, noting the damage done by the darkspawn and the makeshift stalls lining the inner wall. He passed the tavern and stopped in front of a small line of crofter's huts that had remained unchanged over the years.

He remembered playing here as a child with his sister and his younger brother. For an instant the ghostly figures of the children they had been passed before his very eyes, the wispy apparitions giggling innocently as they chased each other around the grassy knoll before evaporating into the waning light. He closed his eyes against the memories.

"My word! Master Nate? Is that really you?" a voice called from behind him.

Nathaniel turned to see a small, hunched figure carrying a bundle of twigs standing just behind him. The face was older than he remembered, but there was no mistaking the elf that stood before him.

"Groundskeeper Samuel?" he asked incredulously.

"It _is_ you! We hardly believed that you would ever return from the Free Marches. It is good to see you m' boy!" Samuel said warmly as they clasped hands.

"And you, my friend. I didn't know any of the old staff remained."

"Ah, yes. There is but a few of us, but the Senechal is a good man, and a fair one. He kept on anyone who wanted to stay."

"Groundskeeper, I have to know…what happened to my brother and sister? I was told about my parents fate, but I—I have to know how my siblings died."

A look of surprise followed by one of confusion crossed over his old friend's face at the mention of his siblings.

"Dead? Your brother was most assuredly killed…during the siege at Denerim, or so we were told, but Delilah…she's not dead, lad."

"Delilah is alive! But where—"

"She's livin' in Amaranthine. Last I heard she married a store-keep there."

"Do you know where—" Nathaniel began, but stopped when he noticed the color drain from the old elf's face.

"Maker's breath," Samuel breathed, staring over Nathaniel's shoulder.

He turned to see Falcon approaching, a mixed expression of confusion and amusement on her face. He was surprised to see that she still wore her leather armor. _Guess I'm not the only one who needed fresh air,_ he thought with a scowl before registering the Groundskeeper's next words.

"Well I'll be Andraste's handmaiden! It's the little Cousland lass!" Samuel crowed as she approached them.

_What! _Nathaniel thought.

"I remember you. You used to sneak me sweets as a child," she replied as she smiled at the elf.

"Remember that, do you?" Samuel chuckled. "Ah, what a surprise it is to see you, lass! We heard that your brother survived Ostagar, but—well, we thought you had died with your parents in the raid."

"I would have if it hadn't been for Duncan… the, uh, last Warden-Commander. He helped me escape the castle and in return I became a Grey Warden."

"Land sakes," Samuel breathed. "So _you_ are the lady Commander everyone's been talkin' about." She nodded in affirmation. "Well, I'll be! At any rate, it's good to see you alive and well, my Lady, and the very picture of your Mother, if I do say so myself."

And she was, Nathaniel thought. Besides her eyes (a trait no doubt inherited from her Father) Alyxandria was the very picture of Eleanor Cousland. He felt like a fool for not noticing it before.

"Thank you, Samuel. It would have pleased her to hear as much, though I highly doubt she would agree with you," she told the elderly elf, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I always liked the Teyrna. She was the compassionate sort; not fussy like so many other noblewomen, and there never was a better man than the Teryn. He was kinder to us elves than most. I'm that sorry for what was done to your family," Samuel said sympathetically before his expression quickly changed to one of fear. "Now, don't go blaming little Nate for the Old Arl's evil-doin's. He had no hand in it, my Lady! I swear it!"

"You needn't worry, good man. I'm well aware of that," she replied warmly before shooting Nathaniel a look of warning. "I wish I could stay in chat, but I really must get ready for this evening's festivities. It was good to see you again, Samuel."

"And you, my Lady. May the Maker watch over you," Samuel said with a stiff bow.

Falcon leaned over and placed a kiss on Samuel's weathered cheek, surprising both the elderly elf and Nathaniel in the process.

"May He be with you always, my friend," she replied with a gentle smile, and then turned, leaving both men staring after her.

A _Cousland!_

Nathaniel's head was reeling with this new information. _And not just any Cousland, _Alyxandria_ Cousland_…Fergus's little sister and the bane of his existence when he was a youth. Little Lexy, he had used to call her then. A silly name for a silly little girl…or so he had thought at the time. Now she was a woman in her own right and...and, _she still killed your father you bletherin idiot! _The familiar sensation of anger washed over him, only this time he was going to get answers. Falcon had nearly reached the inner portcullis when he caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm.

"Unhand me!" she cried, easily shrugging his hand away.

"Why didn't you tell me you are a Cousland?" he hissed at her.

She blanched, but recovered quickly, color flooding into her cheeks as she glared at him.

"To what end, Nathaniel?" she asked, voice cold with tempered anger. "So that we can argue over who killed whose father? I'll pass, thank you very much."

"Bryce Cousland was conspiring with the Orlesians," he replied quietly.

"Did your father tell you that? I suppose he also told you that my mother and sister-in-law were also _conspiring_ with the Orlesians…or what of my six-year-old nephew? Was _he conspiring_ with the Orlesians too?" she seethed. "Be grateful that it was _I_ that found you in that cell and not my brother. He would have struck you down without a moment of hesitation."

Nathaniel snapped his mouth shut, unsure of what to say to that. Finally Falcon sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back up at him, her eyes ablaze with quiet fury.

"The only thing my father _was_ guilty of was supporting the king. Do yourself a favor, Nathaniel Howe. In the future be sure you are _certain_ of a man's guilt before passing judgment…and _never _call my father a traitor again or I will lock you back up in that cell and throw away the key."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"The Princess Pleads for Wallace's Life" by James horner (Braveheart OST); "Cold" by Aqualung & Lucy Schwartz; Mr. Bad News" by Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black OST);__"Pure Spirits of the Forest" also by James Horner (Avatar OST); "Goodbye Godric" by Nathan Barr (True Blood Season 2 OST)._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Of Freedom and Phylacteries**

_Amaranthine. _

Anders gazed wistfully at the port city off in the distance, its tall ramparts just visible over the next pass. The midday sun gleamed off the stone walls like a beacon beckoning them forward.

He could scarcely believe that it had been just two weeks since he had been here last. How full of nervous energy he had been! Like a green boy taking his first tumble in the hay with a pretty maid…until the templars had found and captured him. It was sad really, how easily they had ambushed him this time. How he _ever_ thought that he could manage walking past a chantry without being spotted was beyond him.

_Not one of my more brilliant escape attempts, _he thought sulkily.

It had been a bitter draught to swallow, being so close to his ultimate goal only to have it slip through his fingers. Since then things hadn't exactly gone as he had expected them to. Then again, he supposed he could be a lot worse off than being a Grey Warden.

_Like dead, for instance…just saying Anders old boy, _he reminded himself.

He was grateful to the Commander for conscripting him, yet he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. He was free of the Circle, but he was not _truly_ free, and never would be. Damn, but wasn't that depressing? _If only..._he thought longingly.

Anders kept his eyes on Amaranthine, involuntarily licking his lips as he thought of the possibilities. Somewhere within her walls lay the key to his freedom. It would be so easy if he could only…_If I could just slip away unnoticed, _he thought. _Right, that will happen, _his common sense replied sarcastically. _When Andraste herself rides through the streets of Amaranthine on a griffon…completely bare-arsed naked._ An explicit image of a nude Andraste atop a griffon flashed through his mind. If she had been anything in person like the statues that were all over Fereldan…_mmm, _he purred inwardly with appreciation.

At any rate, the Commander was exceedingly observant, heavily armed, and far quicker on her feet than he…not to mention the fact that the red-headed drunkard and Ser-Mopes-a-Lot were bound to notice if he just up and left. He didn't have a chance in Hades.

Breathing in deeply he shook off the temporary gloom. Unlike _some_ men he knew (_Nathaniel_) he was not one to be mired in petulance. He was luckier than most mages. Never again would he be trapped within the tower walls, never again would he have to fear his words or actions lest he be deemed an apostate or worse. Sure, he was a slave to the darkspawn horde, but he was free to kill the sadistic bastards however he pleased.

"Something wrong, Anders?" Falcon asked from beside him, startling him out of his thoughts.

He hadn't even realized that she'd pulled up beside him. Either he was growing more accustomed to this whole 'riding' nonsense or she was simply amusing herself by keeping pace with him. Either way, she was watching him with that unsettling gaze of hers.

"No! Not at all…why do you ask?" he replied, his voice cracking guiltily.

"You look preoccupied. Something on your mind?" she asked.

"Oh, you know. Just enjoying the sights, breathing in the aroma of freedom, that sort of thing," he answered cheekily.

"Funny, all I smell is wet dog and rotting fish," she replied, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Well, there's that," he answered with a chuckle. "But there's freedom in there too."

"I see. I didn't think you would consider being a Grey Warden as such."

"In comparison to what I've been accustomed to it is indeed," he began, an uncustomary frown flitting across his face as his voice lowered. "I escaped the tower seven times. After the last time they put me in solitary confinement for a year. Eventually they would have branded me a maleficar and executed me, true or not."

"Was the Circle of Magi really that bad?" she asked softly, her brow furrowed in concern.

"The problem is that mages are merely tolerated. It's like you need permission to be alive! There's nothing a mage can do to prove him…or _her_self no matter how hard they might try. It's like everyone else needs protection from you, _the end_," he growled, anger coloring his words with emotion. Eventually he sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes before shooting Falcon a goofy grin. "All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools. Is that truly too much to ask?"

"No, I suppose it isn't," she replied with a chuckle. "Just keep those lightning bolts aimed at the darkspawn and away from me."

"Ah, but _you_ are no fool, dear Lady," he drawled, a devilish grin spreading across his lips.

She shook her head in amusement, but suddenly her face dropped, the moment lost.

"Anders?"

"Hmm?"

"I know this isn't exactly the life you wanted, but you do see that I had no other choice?" she asked him seriously, her eyes never leaving his as she gently placed a hand on his forearm, making his skin twitch beneath her touch.

"Yes, of course," he replied after taking a moment to consider her words.

"Good," she said, releasing his arm. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Anders' eyebrows shot up in surprise. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events. He searched her intense cobalt eyes, but could find nothing but complete sincerity in their depths.

"No need to apologize, Commander. Who knows, I might just have a shot at the dream after all," he said with a flirtatious wink.

She smiled at him then, a genuine smile that lit up her entire face and made her eyes dance with amusement. The familiar tug of desire fluttered in his stomach as he watched her nudge Valkyrie to the front of the group. _Maker, what a woman! _He breathed to himself.

It was in rare moments such as these that Anders glimpsed what he believed to be the _true_ Falcon; the woman she was beneath the characteristic somberness she wore like a shield. Oghren had said she'd changed since the blight, but why? She never spoke about her experiences; never spoke about herself at all for that matter, which was pretty much unheard of for a woman of her station. Every noblewoman he'd ever met just _loved_ to talk about themselves, nearly as much as they loved to gossip and preen, but Falcon was nothing at all like them. It made him ever more curious about her. She was a mystery he desperately wanted to unravel…along with those ridiculous coils she insisted on wearing at the back of her neck.

Anders loved women in general; short, tall, skinny, round…as long as they were warm and willing. He learned to take his pleasure where he could, but he always had a soft spot for women with beautiful hair. Falcon was no exception. At first glance it seemed to be a simple dark brown color, but under certain light he could see shades of deep gold and auburn liberally streaked through the soft waves. At dusk it sometimes took on a rich mahogany hue that was breathtaking against her pale skin and vivid eyes. He wished he knew how long it was, or if it was as silky-soft to the touch as it looked. He could imagine shiny curls cascading down her back, brushing his chest as she moved over him seductively, or how he would wind those beautiful strands around his fists as her head fell back in abandon…_Maker. _Just thinking about it made his whole body react painfully. He'd always been proud of his sensual appetite, but since his Joining the urge to sate himself had nearly doubled. _Wonder if that's a Warden thing? _He mused. He had considered asking Oghren and Nathaniel, but could only imagine the ribbing he would get for his trouble. Perhaps he should chalk it up to simple sexual frustration?

_Way, _way_ too long since you've been with a woman_ _Anders old boy_, he told himself. _You really should do something about that. _

"Keep a look out for those hunters Garavel told us about. He said they should be somewhere just outside the gate. After that I want to secure rooms for us at the _Crown and Lion_ before looking for this Mervis about the caravan attacks," the Falcon commanded as they approached the city gates.

Her words reminded Anders of where they were and why, mercifully snapping him out of the dangerous procession of his thoughts. He mentally shook himself free of the lingering lust and pasted his best "warden business, move along," look onto his face. He almost thought that the façade was working until Oghren ruined it by taking one look at him and guffawing in disbelief. _Sodding dwarf, _Anders grumbled to himself with a scowl.

"Best to dismount until we pass the gates, Commander," Nathaniel called from behind them, gesturing towards the large crowd of people trying to enter the city.

Falcon nodded in understanding but didn't turn or comment. Instead she hopped gracefully from the saddle, patting Valkyrie's neck as she waited for the rest of them to follow her lead. Anders had caught her expression, however, and was surprised at the cold look in her eyes. He didn't know _why_ he was surprised; Nathaniel and Falcon hadn't said more than two words to each other since they'd left the Vigil two days ago.

"Is it just me or are things just a bit more frigid than normal?" Anders asked her in a low voice, shifting his eyes in Nathaniel's direction so she was aware of what, or rather whom he was speaking of.

"That bad?" she whispered.

"Any worse and I'd have icicles dripping from my eyes," he answered, trying to make her laugh but failing.

Falcon sighed.

"He knows I am a Cousland," she answered softly once she ascertained that the man in question was not, in fact, listening to their conversation.

"So? Shouldn't he be…I don't know, groveling at your feet and begging forgiveness for his vile behavior?"

"Could you imagine Nathaniel ever doing such a thing?" she answered, arching an eyebrow in speculation.

"Well…no, I guess not, but it still doesn't explain why he's angry at you _again_."

"He's angry at me because I didn't tell him who I was, and he's angry because despite our families' history I still chose to kill his father. Nathaniel loved him, Anders. He could never understand."

"But surely with time—"

"Rendon Howe didn't change overnight. Nathaniel was never able to see him for what he really was, and he likely never will."

"But—"

"What are you two whispering about?" Oghren growled, reminding them both that they were not alone.

"How best to get you to bathe, my smelly little friend," Anders offered smoothly. Falcon shot him a grateful glance before wrinkling her nose at Oghren.

"You _are_ smelling rather ripe lately, Oghren," Falcon added.

"And yer startin' te sound like Felsi, woman," Oghren snorted.

"Then perhaps you should listen to your wife more often. I daresay when you smell worse than Hector it's time to wash off a layer of grime." Falcon retorted. Hector barked in agreement from behind them, making both Falcon and Anders laugh. Oghren snorted again, mumbling something about _topsiders _and _nug-humpers_ before dropping the topic altogether.

They soon reached the growing throng of people at the gate. Anders was surprised when the Commander seemed happy enough to wait with the common folk rather than push through the crowd like he knew most nobles would.

"Looking for the company of a real man, honey-pie? I'll show you moves those lads of yours could only dream of," a man called from a campfire just a stone's throw from where they were standing.

Falcon tilted her head as she stared curiously at the man.

"Are your typical overtures always this iniquitous or am I just that fortunate?" she asked.

"W-what?" the man stuttered, blinking the leer from his face.

"She means bugger off," Nathaniel growled, crossing his arms across his chest as he scowled at the man.

Both Anders and Oghren gawked at him and then at each other, matching looks of surprise written across their faces. _First he ignores her, then he defends her…how curious, _Anders thought. Guessing by Oghren's disbelieving snort, the dwarf was thinking along the same lines. Like it or not, Howe was just as hooked as he was.

"Wait," Falcon said, holding up a fist to signal silence. "Are you Colbert?"

"Who's askin'?

"The Commander of the Grey," she replied bluntly, mirroring Nathaniel by crossing her arms in front of her.

"Ah, Grey Wardens are ya'? Suppose you want to know about the rift we found out in Knotwood Hills?" Colbert crowed, signaling a gangly elf to join them. "This here's Micah."

"Hello," the elf chirped, staring at them blankly.

"If you would, Master Hunter," Falcon replied, gesturing for him to continue.

"Right. We were tracking a buck out in those parts, before this whole darkspawn mess," Colbert began. "Gave us a real chase it did! Spent the better part of a week looking for the clever beast—"

"And the chasm?" Falcon interrupted with a sigh.

"Yes…uh…the chasm. We saw it coming over our rise…looked like someone tried to build over it, though no one in town new anything about it. Must have been abandoned a long time ago. Anyway, we decided to investigate and Micah here fell face first into the pit, screaming and wailing like a newborn babe."

"Earth crumbled. Not stable," Micah said, narrowing his eyes at Colbert.

"Right. _Anyway_, that's when we saw the darkspawn."

"How many?" Falcon asked.

"More than a brood, less than a horde," Colbert continued with a shrug. "Seemed like they were looking for something. Too preoccupied to notice us at any rate, thank the Maker."

"Wait a second…the darkspawn were 'too preoccupied' to notice two screaming, injured men?" Anders interrupted. "Boggles the mind!"

"We'll have to check it out. Do you remember where this chasm is?" Falcon asked.

"Certainly! I marked it on my map so that we could avoid it in the future."

"Thank you, Colbert," Falcon said as she looked at his map and marked the area on her own. "And you too, Micah."

Micah beamed at her.

"Do we get anything for our trouble?" Colbert whined, perking at the thought of a possible monetary reward. The Commander eyed him wearily, but finally gave them a sovereign apiece. Their eyes widened as they thanked her shook his head as they moved back into the stream of people entering the city. _Too generous by half, _he thought. _We'll all be starving in mismatched armor if she keeps this up._

Soon they found out why such a line had formed at the gates. The guards were stopping everyone to search for smuggled goods and turning away refugees as if they had the darkspawn plague. The combination lent a certain edge to the overall feeling of the mob which made Anders nervous. He usually liked crowds. One could easily get lost in a crowd. Yet he found himself breathing a sigh of relief once they passed the line of guards and moved into the city proper. He couldn't help but smirk a little at the Captain of the Guard's outrage at the young soldier who felt the need to search their new Arlessa's pack for smuggled goods. Falcon hadn't been offended, but the poor lad's expression was well worth the annoyance of having his personal item's rifled through.

Sitting atop his horse, Reynolds (whom he did _not_ name thank you very much!), gave Anders a panoramic view of the city, something he would not have had on foot. Though the sun was out and high in the sky, half the streets were inundated with shallow puddles of water left over from last night's storm. The smell of wet earth, rotting wood and old masonry mixed with the scent of sea air to give Amaranthine its own distinct scent. He could see fragments of the Waking Sea through chinks in the ancient, crumbling walls; a vivid blue-green that stood out against the drab stone. Amaranthine wasn't large, but it _was_ impressive. Hundreds of years, standing at the edge of Fereldan through war and hardship, Anders wondered if it still looked the same as it had in Calenhad's days.

Amaranthine's reaction to the Wardens presence in the city was strange to be sure. He would have wondered if the whole lot of them had never seen armored men on horseback before had it not been for the fact that there were guards posted on every street corner. He spotted a woman hanging laundry from a second story window leaning out to watch them pass, a look of wonder and surprise on her face. Still others in the street stopped what they were doing just to stare. A few bolder natives called out greetings or blessings, and one pretty young lass actually threw a delicate white rose up to him with a cheeky smile. Anders was dumbstruck. The last time he was in Amaranthine he was being dragged, kicking and screaming through the streets by a contingent of templars. _Who would have thought I'd be back to this? _He mused. Nathaniel had a look on his face that must have been similar to his own expression…either that or Howe was going to be sick behind the bushes, he couldn't tell for sure. Oghren, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the onlookers (at second glance he realized that the dwarf was in a drunken daze, therefore unlikely to notice anything). Anders glanced at Falcon, but her expression was too difficult for him to decipher. He thought perhaps she was just used to the attention, being the Hero of Fereldan and all, but he had a feeling she was just good at hiding her emotions.

Their ride from the gate was blessedly short, leading them to the stables connected to the _Crown and Lion. _Falcon paid a stable boy to take care of their mounts before beckoning them to follow her into the Inn. Compared to the midday sun outside the taproom was dim and dusty, but smelled pleasantly of baking bread and beeswax. It was there that they found the innkeeper, a gruff man who was only too willing to rent out rooms to the newly appointed Warden-Commander. He had also allowed them to search the room of a man named Kristoff, a Grey Warden the Senechal had told them about before they had left for Amaranthine. He'd not been at the Vigil during the darkspawn incursion, but he also had not been heard from in over a month. Kristoff's chambers had obviously not been occupied for a week or more, the few personal belongings he had left behind left few clues as to what he had been up to. They were about to leave the room when Anders spotted a tattered book poking out from underneath an armchair by the hearth. Upon further inspection he realized that it was, in fact, a journal. Kristoff's journal to be exact.

"Commander, look at this," he said, handing her the volume. Falcon took it from his hands, brow furrowed as she flipped through the pages until she reached the last few entries.

"He went to the Black Marshes," she muttered, closing the book and setting it down on the night stand.

"Why in blazes would he go there?" Oghren asked as he scratched his beard.

"He was tracking darkspawn. We'll investigate, but it'll have to wait," she replied distractedly as she turned to leave the room.

Anders could smell the delicious aroma of food wafting up to greet them as they descended the stairs. Warm, crusty bread, a thick lamb stew and brimming tankards of hot mead covered the surface of a long, scarred wooden table by the hearth. It would have been far more than necessary if they had been typical patrons of the _Crown and Lion_, but the Innkeeper must have heard of the Warden's legendary appetite. Anders wanted to kiss the man (but of course he wasn't about to). He was starving!

Falcon paid the man for his troubles and the group set about devouring the feast. Once their appetites were sated they gathered their gear and headed back out into the city. A sort of calm had fallen over their mismatched group, creating an overall sense of congeniality as they walked down the narrow cobbled path that led to the marketplace. There was an energy to the city that he hadn't noticed before. The everyday sounds coupled with the soft presence of the chant drifting from the open doors of the chantry produced a peaceful ambiance that he could easily get used to. Even Howe seemed less edgy, which was a blessing in itself. It was a nice change of pace, though Anders new better than to hope that it would last.

"Oy! It's about time you showed up!" an all too familiar voice called to him from across the street. Anders stopped in his tracks, slowly turning his head to the meet the eyes of a very angry elfin woman leaning against a wooden fence nearby.

"Namaya! You're still here?" he said in disbelief, shock written across his face. Without thinking he ran across the road and grabbed the woman up in a bear-hug. She batted at his shoulder until he let her go; backing up another step once he caught the angry look on her face.

"_I_ keep my promises. Here, turns out you were right. The cache is here in Amaranthine," she said, handing him a tattered piece of parchment.

"It is? You found it?"

"I did. What you do with that information is up to you. I, for one, am done dealing with mages," she snapped before turning her angry glare to someone just behind his right shoulder. Anders didn't have to turn to know that she was speaking to Falcon. "A word of advice, don't let him sweet talk you. He's _very_ good at that."

Anders desperately tried to hide the wince that escaped him at her last comment.

"I guess I should thank you," he said meekly, a nervous grin wavering on his lips.

"Damn right you should! You get caught Anders, I'm not helping you again."

And with that Namaya stormed off, not bothering to look back at him as she muttered colorful curses under her breath.

"I suppose that requires some explanation?" he stammered as he turned to face the Commander, his face turning red with embarrassment.

"Friend of yours?" Falcon asked, cocking an eyebrow in question.

"Do I detect a note of jealousy?" he asked with a wicked grin, trying to break the tension.

Instead she narrowed her eyes at him, tapping one dainty foot as she waited for his explanation. Anders sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Namaya is a…friend. Last time I escaped from the tower I asked her to look into some…things…for me. That's why I was in Amaranthine. The templars thought I came to take a ship, but it was to meet her," he explained.

"To find a cache?" she said dryly.

"During the blight, the templars moved their store of phylactery's to Amaranthine for safety. _My_ phylactery is amongst them, or so Namaya found out. So long as the templar's have that sample of my blood, they can find me. I need to destroy it."

"But you're a Grey Warden now. They can't touch you."

"What's to stop the chantry from deciding that mages in the Grey Wardens are apostates? I want to be sure they can never find me again. _Ever_."

Falcon eyed him wearily, crossing her arms again as she considered his words. Anders could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he waited for her reply. _Please do this for me! _He mentally pleaded.

"You're right," she finally said with a sigh. "They shouldn't be allowed to control you. Where is this cache?"

_Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!_

"Looks like they're stored in an empty warehouse on the far end of the marketplace. Shouldn't be too hard to find," he replied, trying to keep a nonchalant tone to his voice.

"You know, this could be a trap," Nathaniel added as they continued to walk.

"If it is the world will be short a few more tin heads with a death wish," Falcon replied with a lethal grin.

_What a woman!_ Anders thought, his senses melting into a puddle of goo.

"You really are scary sometimes, Commander," Oghren grunted, a proud smile on his face.

"Thanks…I think," she replied.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"The Book" by Nicholas Hooper (Half-Blood Prince OST);__ "__Sherwood Forest"__ and __"The Legend Begins" by Marc Steitenfield (Robin Hood OST); "The Machinations of Cedric" by Rohan Stevenson (Merlin: Series Two OST)_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8 – Many Meetings**_

They found the warehouse easily, just as Anders had predicted. For a moment the thought that it had been a little _too_ easy crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Falcon turned to him as they stopped in front of the plain clapboard door that led to their destination.

"You ready?" she asked as she eyed him questioningly. Anders nodded, unable to form words past the lump that lodged itself inside his throat. She squeezed his arm reassuringly before turning to try the door latch. Surprisingly it was unlocked.

The warehouse was little more than one large room, empty save for some chests and crates haphazardly scattered about. A cluttered desk stood at one end of the chamber, a lit candelabra sitting amongst a pile of torn ledgers the only source of light in the entire room.

"Is it just me or does anyone else find it a bit strange that there are no guards to greet us?" Nathaniel murmured beside him.

"Perhaps they don't want to draw attention to the cache?" Anders replied nervously, his eyes flickering from one end of the room to the next.

"Yeah, and I'm the Empress of Orlais," Oghren snorted.

Anders scowled at the dwarf though he had to admit that not even _he_ believed his own words. There was definitely something wrong here. They could all sense it.

"Come lads, let's make this quick…and keep your wits about you. This place reeks of trouble." Falcon ordered.

"You don't have to tell _me_ twice," Anders muttered beside her.

They split up, carefully sifting through the contents of every crate, barrel and chest to be found. Although they discovered a few useful magical objects it soon became clear that there were no phylacteries to be found here. _But why did Namaya think there was? _Anders thought as he desperately tried to keep his frustration from showing.

Glancing up he saw Falcon eyeing a doorway leading to another part of the building. It was a narrow archway, barely more than a slit in the wall, which would explain why he hadn't noticed it upon their entry. From this angle he could see a light flickering dimly just through the opening. He joined the Commander as she cautiously reached for her blades, the soft slither of steel against steel causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. Nathaniel and Oghren silently fell in behind them, each with their own weapons in hand.

They walked into a second, smaller room that appeared to be just as empty as the first, dashing what was left of Anders' hopes. The phylacteries were definitely not here, but something else definitely was…_someone_ else to be exact.

"You can come out now, "he called smugly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned up against the wall. Three templars slowly appeared from various hiding places across the room, their leader appearing last from the shadow of a door in the far back corner.

"_You!_" Falcon hissed as she recognized the cold, hard features of Ser Rylcok, the female templar who had been hunting Anders when she had conscripted him.

"And here I almost believed the infamous Anders wouldn't take the bait," Rylock purred over-sweetly, shooting him a malicious smile as she crossed the room to stand in front of him.

"Ha! Yes, I suppose I should've _known_ it would be you," he replied, every word dripping with sarcasm. "The phylacteries were never here, were they?"

"Oh, they were here. Sadly, they have been moved to another location. I knew you would never be able to resist their siren's call, Anders. You are far too predictable," she began, baring her teeth at him like a rabid mabari. She soon turned her malice on Falcon, her eyes snapping with self-righteousness. "You made a poor choice with this one, Commander. Anders will never submit, not to us…and not to you."

"He has made a fine Grey Warden thus far," Falcon said coolly, the only proof that her temper was waning coming from the faint twitching of a muscle in her jaw. Anders had noticed the reflex on occasion in their travels and knew that bloodshed usually followed that minute movement. He tried not to smirk.

"I have no doubt," Rylock replied with narrowed eyes. "Nevertheless, I am here to make sure this murderer won't bother anyone again."

"What? You can't arrest me! The Queen allowed my conscription!" Anders cried as he shot straight up, the cocky smile on his face dropping into an angry scowl.

"The Chantry's authority supersedes the crown in this matter. You cannot hide within the Grey Warden's ranks," Rylock spat, drawing her sword.

"No, he stays with us," Falcon replied calmly, causing Anders' heart to jump into his throat. _Aww, she wants to keep me, _his inner-voice cooed dreamily, despite the glares of the angry templars preparing to either drag him off or kill them all.

"Hardly surprising. The Grey Warden's have ever been a haven for criminals and maleficar," Rylock seethed. "I don't know how you inspire such loyalty, Anders, but it will avail you not. Now, you come with us!"

The rest of the templars drew their weapons just as Rylock jumped forward to grab Anders, but she hadn't counted on the Commander stepping in before she reached him. Rylock swung her sword with a frustrated growl, but Falcon had bent backwards out of the reach of her blade before the blow could connect. She swung her body back up in time to cross swords with the angry templar with a bone-jarring clang. Ciaos ensued as the room erupted with the sounds of combat.

Anders raised his staff, but before he could cast he could feel the sickening precursor of magic-draining energy. There was not enough time to react. Instead, he prepared himself for impact as the smite simultaneously threw him backwards into the wall and drained him of all his mana. He could hear the templar laugh, his plate armor clinking as he approached the fallen mage. Glancing up he could see the man was nearly as big as a qunari and twice as ugly.

Anders could feel the anger coursing through his body. He hated the black, sucking feeling that always came with being smited, and he hated the feeling of being powerless, _especially_ against a templar. He noted the snide, twisted smile on the face of his tormenter as he raised his sword over his head, preparing to bring it down on Anders's head. With a bellow the templar swung his heavy, two-handed blade, but met only air as Anders rolled out of the way and nimbly hopped up onto his feet. He swung again and again, but the mage continued to elude him. Anders twirled his staff through his fingers, studying the man like he'd seen Falcon do during her demonstration at the Vigil. He struck with the blunt end of his staff; once to the templar's jaw and once to his midsection. The man crumpled in half, moaning with pain. With one last swift move he swiped the staff across the templar's plated legs, causing the man to fall with a satisfying _clank_. He twirled the staff again, pointing it at the templar's head, but before he could consider his next move an axe came down across the man's thick neck, effectively separating his head from his body. Anders' shot a look at Oghren, a frown creasing his face as he watched the dwarf reclaim his weapon.

"Hey, I had this one handled!" Anders complained.

Oghren snorted in disbelief.

"Maybe ye would've if ye weren't so busy twirlin' that fancy stick o' yours," Oghren growled. "If yer gonna kill the old fashioned way, son, skip the bull-shite en go straight for the jugular. Otherwise, when yer fingers ain't so twinkly, leave the slayin' to the _real _men."

Anders face turned crimson in rage.

"Enough! Oghren, leave him be," Falcon snapped. "Anders, ignore him. It doesn't matter who did the killing. The battle is over and we are all still alive. That should suffice for the both of you."

"Yes, Commander," they both muttered.

Anders glanced around the room until he saw Rylock lying a few feet away in a puddle of her own blood. He stalked over to her, looking down at her twisted body and smirked.

"Good riddance, you spiteful bitch," he murmured, kicking her armor-plated arm for good measure.

After all these years, he could hardly believe that he was finally free of her. Out of all the templars that had hunted him, none of them had done so with as much relish as Ser Rylock. She was a rarity in and of itself, female templars being few and far between, but he could never truly understand the obsession she had developed over the years. His vanity would make him believe that a secret part of her had found him wildly attractive, but the more reasonable answer was that she was affronted by the idea of a mage free of the Circle. Plus it was the reason that was least likely to make him want to vomit.

"Do you suppose your friend knew about the trap?" Falcon asked him, interrupting his musings.

"Namaya? I don't think so, but I guess it really doesn't matter," he replied distractedly as he continued to stare down at Rylock's still form.

"I am sorry about your phylactery, but know that as long as you are loyal to the Wardens, you will never need fear a Chantry intervention. Though Ser Rylock did not comprehend the import of your conscription, the Grand Cleric certainly does. She knows better than to interfere in Warden business, and she _further_ knows that any said interference would cause a great deal of grief for both herself and the Chantry," Falcon said with a small, wicked smile. "One of the few perks of being the Hero of Fereldan."

Anders chuckled, imagining an angry Falcon storming the Grand Cleric's office. It was strange to think that such a pint-sized woman could cause so much trouble, but whereas she was physically small, her temper certainly was not. He was reminded that there was a reason why she held such a title in the first place.

"Thank you, Commander, for everything," he said after awhile, smiling down at her with all the warmth that he felt. "You stood by me and I appreciate it."

"No need to thank me, Anders. We are friends, are we not? Friends stick up for each other," she replied with a smile of her own.

"I…suppose they do," he murmured, his stomach fluttering again at her words.

Heat whirled through his senses, melting the last remnants of his carefully built defenses. Anders could suddenly see the reason why so many men made fools of themselves when it came to certain members of the opposite sex. It was a breakthrough he wasn't quite ready to fully comprehend, but he could feel the beginning of something altogether different building up within him.

"By the way, you did well today. You were at a disadvantage and took the initiative. I wonder…would you be willing to learn the ways of an Arcane Warrior?" she asked abruptly.

"What?"

She laughed but readily repeated herself as he shook his head free of the emotions that had clouded his mind.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, confusion written across his face.

"I learned of it while traveling through the Brecilian forest during the blight. I can teach you…if you are willing to learn," she replied, then chuckled at the expression on his face. "I know what you are thinking, but no, I cannot practice such skills myself. I _can, _however, give you the knowledge, as it was given to me."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn how to fight with a blade if it came down to it. Very well, I accept."

"Good," she said simply, patting him on the shoulder. "Now, let's clean up and get out of here before the city guard show up. I'd rather not have to explain why I'm covered in templar blood."

A short time later they walked back into the busy market place, all evidence of their confrontation with Ser Rylock and her goons as good as gone. They browsed a couple of the stalls and traded in some of their loot, but the Commander insisted on finding the Merchant's Guild before arranging for supplies. It was there that they met Mervis, a man who begged them to stop the caravan attacks on the Pilgrim's Path. He droned on and on about destroyed carts and "monsters" lurking in the shadows, but Anders was hardly paying attention.

_Why is it that everyone wants us to fix their problems? _He thought disgustedly as he sat heavily on a low-lying wall. He produced a crisp, red apple from within his robes and took a large bite, noisily chewing as he stared off into space. Nathaniel caught his eye and flashed him a look that clearly said, '_You should be paying attention to this, half-wit.' _Anders smiled cheekily at him before taking yet another bite of the succulent fruit.

"And you assume darkspawn are to blame?" he heard Falcon ask as Mervis stopped to catch his breath.

"We don't know for sure, but whatever it is, it's completely crippled trade between Amaranthine and Denerim. No one wants to risk traveling through the Wending Wood," Mervis said seriously.

"I shall look into it as soon as possible," she promised him.

"Oh, _thank_ you Commander! If you can stop the killings the guild will ensure that you and your men are properly rewarded. You have my word on it," Mervis crowed as he pumped her hand enthusiastically in gratitude. Anders rolled his eyes as he stood and chucked the apple core across the street.

"Really, how can you stand it, Falcon?" Anders asked her as soon as they were out of earshot. "Please Commander! Rescue my kidnapped daughter! Save us Commander! Smugglers are taking over the city! Won't you rescue my kitten from that very tall tree over there? You only have to scale the tallest mountain peek and then swing across a pit of fire-breathing nugs!"

He had her laughing hysterically at his comical rendition and had Oghren and Nathaniel scowling at him in the process. _Three for the price of one, _he thought smugly.

"Really mage, _must_ you make a joke of everything?" Nathaniel growled as he crossed his arms in front of him. It was becoming a nearly permanent pose for the rogue.

Anders opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by a timid female voice calling Nathaniel's name. They all turned to see a slim woman wringing her hands, just a stone's throw away. She was young and pretty with short, raven hair and dancing grey eyes that were surprisingly familiar.

"Delilah?" Nathaniel gasped, his face draining of color as he stared at the woman.

"Nate!" the woman cried, flashing a stunning smile as she launched herself into Nathaniel's arms, leaving the rest of them slack-jawed in shock.

_Howe has a woman? _Anders thought incredulously. _How is that fair? The man couldn't be moodier if he tried…unless that's what women like. Maker! I hope that's not what women like. _

When Nathaniel released her the woman named Delilah stepped back just far enough to briefly cup his face in her small hands. Unshed tears made her eyes shine brightly as her gaze lovingly shifted over his features. Nathaniel looked uncomfortable at her scrutiny, but stood as still as a statue as she studied him.

"I can't believe you're really here! After all this time, without a word…we thought the worst," Delilah said before her face crumbled and she punched him in the shoulder. "Why didn't you write and let us know you were alright!"

"Ow! I'm sorry! After hearing of how…I had thought…well, it hardly matters now what I thought," he began haltingly.

"You thought I was dead, didn't you?" she asked softly. "Poor brother, coming home to such tidings; but as you can see, I am alive and well."

_Ah, sibling, not lover, _Anders noted, though he felt a little silly for not noticing the family resemblance right away.

"Times must have been hard, Delilah. Come back with us to the Vigil, at least until we can find a place of our own," he said, grabbing her arm.

"Nate, stop! I'm a married woman. I can't leave with you!"

"Yes, I had heard that, but I thought—"

"You thought what? That I had no other choice? I didn't marry Albert out of desperation. I love him!" she cried, brushing his hand away. She sighed at the brief flash of hurt that crossed over his features. Leaning up she tenderly brushed a dark lock of hair from out of his eyes. "Come, brother. Sit with me awhile. There is much we need to speak of."

"I wish it was that simple, but my time is not my own. If—"

"If you wish to visit with your sister, you need only ask," Falcon interjected from behind them, a small, hesitant smile on her face as she peeked around Nathaniel's shoulder.

"My word, _Alyx?_ Is that really you?" Delilah gasped, her face breaking out into another wide grin. It took Anders a moment to realize that the woman was talking to Falcon. He had nearly forgotten her true name. _Alyxandria, _he reminded himself.

"Guilty as charged," the Commander said with a small, nervous wave.

Delilah let out a small cry of joy as she threw her arms around Falcon. Anders wanted to laugh at the expression on the Commander's face, but he knew better. He had never seen her so uncomfortable and found it quite endearing.

"It's so good to see you old friend! We had thought you had died with your parents, and then Mother wrote me that she saw you in Denerim, just before Father…_Oh_, Alyx! I'm so sorry for what he did to your family! It was a vile, evil thing and I'm glad that it was you who made him answer for his crimes. I pray you do not blame me or Nate for his actions."

"No, of course not Deli," Alyx replied warmly as she squeezed the other woman's hands in reassurance. "And I'm glad to see you well."

"I wanted to come visit the very moment I heard that you arrived at the Vigil, but I didn't know if you would accept me," Delilah said shyly. "Of course I had no idea that my brother was there…with you…hold on. _Why_ is my brother here with you?"

Nathaniel cleared his throat, his face flushing with embarrassment as Delilah glanced curiously at him, then at the Commander and then back again at him when she didn't find the answer she was looking for in Falcon's expression.

"Nate, what is going on?" she asked quietly.

"I'm a Grey Warden now, sister," Nathaniel replied huskily, his eyes trained somewhere above her head instead of meeting her questioning gaze.

_Why on Thedas would Howe be embarrassed about being a Grey Warden? _Anders thought curiously. _You would think he just announced that he still wets the bed._

"I see," Delilah replied, the corner of her mouth twitching up briefly into a wicked grin. "Which makes '_Little Lexy_ 'your commanding officer, my dear brother."

Nathaniel groaned at the last bit and Falcon blushed prettily, making Anders wonder exactly what sort of history the moody ex-nobleman had with the Commander. It was obvious by their banter that the siblings had known her well once…before the blight, or at least Delilah certainly had. He found himself trying to picture Falcon as a child, or as anything other than…well, a Commander…but he came up empty every time.

"I am most certainly his Commander, though I'll ask you not to repeat that other bit to anyone," Falcon said to her as she shot Nathaniel a look that made him blush. Delilah laughed delightedly when she saw her brother's face, agreeing with Falcon once she was able to get a hold of herself long enough to respond.

"I missed you, Alyx, truly. We shall have to catch up with each other soon," Delilah insisted.

"Indeed, but I'm sure your brother will want you all to himself this time," she replied, squeezing Delilah's hand once more before turning to Nathaniel. "Nathaniel? Take your time."

"Are you sure, Commander?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, _go_…spend some time with your sister. You can meet us back at the inn later," she told him with a smile.

"Thank you," he said with a grateful nod and a broad smile before turning to thread his sister's arm through his. Falcon's jaw dropped, though Anders certainly couldn't blame her for being taken aback. It was the first time any of them had really seen Howe smile since, well, _ever._

"Where to now, fearless leader?" Anders asked as Nathaniel disappeared around the corner.

"I'd like to check out the chanter's board while we're here. We could use the extra funds."

"_Gah!_ Must we?"

"Don't worry, Anders. I won't make you actually go _inside_ the chantry," she laughed as they headed in that direction.

The building in question was perhaps the most prominent structures in the entire city, its sweeping architecture and statue-riddled courtyard noticeable from almost any point of view. Anders couldn't help but swallow a moment's hesitation as they approached. No doubt there would be templars…_everywhere_.

It was not the templars, however, that noticed his presence this time but an all too familiar face that he had certainly not been expecting to see. Anders inwardly groaned.

"Wynne!" Falcon cried, embracing the elderly mage that stood just outside the Chantry doors.

Once again Falcon surprised him, but then he remembered Oghren mentioning the fact that they had traveled with a healer during the blight. He just hadn't realized that they had traveled with _the _healer, Irving's pet. Slowly Anders backed away, wishing he knew a disappearing spell before the old battleaxe noticed his presence.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise!" Wynne replied as she warmly squeezed Falcon's shoulders. "It is good to see you my dear."

"And you, my friend. It has been far too long."

"Indeed it has. I contemplated visiting you at Vigil's Keep, but things…got busy."

"Too busy to pay me a visit?" Falcon pouted.

"I'm afraid so," Wynne chuckled. "The College of the Magi is convening in Cumberland. I must attend if only to bring a semblance of wisdom to the proceedings, but I will make it a point to come see you when the matter at hand is settled."

Anders listened as Wynne filled the Commander in on the details of the troubles brewing within the fraternities of the mages, trying very hard not to make his presence too noticeable to the older mage. Yet he found himself intrigued despite himself.

"The libertarians want to pull away entirely? That's madness! I hate Chantry oversight as much as the next mage, but they can't just decide to leave. This is a recipe for disaster!" he interrupted as Wynne was explaining the situation.

Both Wynne and Falcon looked surprised at his outburst, but Wynne recovered first.

"I wouldn't be too concerned. It is likely to blow over before it even begins, but it wouldn't hurt for you to send a prayer or two to the Maker just in case," Wynne replied with a wink before turning back to Falcon. "Perhaps you could do me a favor if you find yourself in the Wending Wood…"

Wynne asked them to find a well-respected mage by the name of Ines who apparently made a hobby out of rooting around in the dirt for plants or shrubs or what have you…alone…in a darkspawn infested wood…_Right, this Ines has to be completely out of her gourd. As if we have nothing better to do than to look for a crazy botanist mage with a death wish, _Anders thought.

"'Voice of Reason' my arse," he muttered out loud, gleaning a warning look from the Commander, but Wynne simply laughed.

"I see you have recruited yourself a fine healer, Alyxandria. It makes me breathe a little easier knowing that you'll be looked after in the event of an injury, and knowing you the lad has his work cut out for him."

"You can say that again," Anders chipped in, shooting her a playful look.

"Ha ha, very funny," Falcon said, rolling her eyes. "You know Anders, Wynne?"

"But of course! He was one of my finest pupils…when he decided to show up for class that is," Wynne replied, eyes sparkling with humor.

"Is that so?" Falcon said, cocking an eyebrow at Anders who shrugged nonchalantly.

"Commander, if I might have a moment of your time," a cloistered sister interrupted as she approached their small group. "There's a woman inside the Chantry that I thought you might speak with. Her husband went missing several days ago and I'm afraid she might do herself a harm. None of the others sisters could get through to her, but if you could just speak with her…"

"Say no more," Falcon interrupted, her eyes softening at the sister. "Oghren? Anders? I'll be just a moment. Wynne, _please_ don't leave until I have a chance to say goodbye. Sister, lead the way."

They all nodded before she turned to leave, Falcon murmuring questions to the sister as they entered the chantry. As soon as the door shut behind them, Wynne turned a predatory gaze on Oghren, her lips falling into a hard line. Anders shuddered, recognizing the look from his years in the tower.

"Oghren?"

"Wynne?"

"How is she really?" she asked him quietly.

Oghren sighed, running a beefy hand through his messy, red hair. Anders noticed that the dwarf suddenly looked exhausted and startlingly … sober.

"Some days are better than others. Sometimes I see hints of the old Falcon, and then other times…well. You know her, Wynne. She hides behind her duty like a sodding shield. I thought maybe this new darkspawn threat might take her mind off things, but…" he grumbled, his throat thick with emotion.

"I see. I had hoped, after all this time…but neither am I surprised to hear that not much has changed. Perhaps I'll have to take matters into my own hands," Wynne replied.

"Ye' have a plan, woman?" Oghren asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Oh, just a few favors I've been holding on to. I wouldn't worry yourself about it," Wynne replied.

Anders' interest was piqued. They were speaking as if the Commander were ill, though she seemed fine to him if not a tad bit on edge. He assumed the attitude came with the job description, but then again…There was something that neither Wynne nor Oghren were mentioning and he knew better than to think that they would offer him an explanation. Something happened, something big enough to keep quiet about, and it worried him.

"Ready to go?" Falcon asked as she rejoined them, immediately putting a stop to Oghren and Wynne's cryptic conversation.

"Aye, that we are," Oghren replied as Anders nodded in agreement.

"Promise you'll come visit," she said to Wynne as they embraced once more, a look passing between the two women that Anders couldn't comprehend.

"Of course, my dear," Wynne replied warmly before turning to him and Oghren. "And as for you two…take care of her."

"Aye, aye granny," Oghren said with a sloppy salute.

Anders hadn't missed the fact that Wynne had been looking mostly at him while making this last request. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, the other two options being a drunken dwarf and a broody rogue too engrossed in his own bitterness to see what was right in front of him (though he wasn't sure if Nathaniel counted. He hadn't been present for said request). Yet of the three, Anders supposed he was the sanest choice…though that in itself was a scary thought.

_You need not worry on that part, Wynne, _Anders said to himself, silently vowing to protect the Commander at any cost. _She has given me freedom and in return I shall give her my life. A whole army of templars couldn't keep me from her now. _

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Is it Poision, Nanny," by Hans Zimmer (Sherlock Holmes OST);"Morgana's Nightmares" by Rohan Stevenson (Merlin: Series Two OST);"Done All Wrong" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club; "Jack Sparrow" by Hans Zimmer (Dead Man's Chest OST); "Daniel and Shauri" by Nicholas Dodd (Stargate OST); "Wattos Deal – Shmi and Qui-Gon Talk" by John Williams (The Phantom Menace OST)._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 - Reunited**

Nathaniel followed Delilah down a narrow alley behind the marketplace and through a crumbling stone archway that led out of the city proper. He recounted the events preceding his conscription at her request, leaving out the bits that would violate his oath of secrecy. While he talked they strolled along a winding dirt path that led to a cluster of cottages atop a hill overlooking the Waking Sea. Nathaniel could hear the familiar sounds of barking dogs and children's laughter mixing with the rhythmic crashing of waves upon the shore.

"It would be just like Alyx to do such a thing," she said once he finished his account. "You're lucky she is so forgiving, brother. Most men in her position would have executed you on the spot."

"Yes, no doubt they would have done," he said with a deep scowl.

"And yet you don't seem very grateful," she murmured with an interested air.

Delilah led him to the house furthest away from the path and through a low, rickety wooden gate. A black and white hound greeted them in the dooryard, bushy tail wagging happily as his mistress bent down to pat him on the head before showing her brother inside.

The first thing Nathaniel noticed when they entered was the combination of scents that assaulted his senses. Breathing in deeply he attempted to identify each individually. He smiled as he recognized the smell of lilacs and honeysuckle, two of his sister's most favorite scents in all of Thedas. Breathing in again he caught a hint of vanilla mixed with the subtle aroma of cedar, candle wax and clean linens. They were warm smells; welcoming smells that were both pleasant and soothing to his tightly-wound nerves. Glancing around he noticed that the cottage was small but filled with all the little feminine touches that made a house a home. There were lace curtains at the windows, gently wafting in a warm sea breeze kicking up off the water. Thick, woven rugs adorned the floors and a bookshelf with well-worn volumes stood proudly by the hearth. Hand-carved wooden figurines lined the rough-hewn mantelpiece and bowls of freshly cut flowers were scattered about to brighten the room.

"I know it's far smaller than the Vigil, but its home," Delilah chirped from behind him. "Come brother, sit and talk with me while I make us some tea."

Nathaniel followed her into a tidy, sun-drenched kitchen and sat at a scarred wooden table as Delilah briskly gathered the things she needed to prepare the tea. He grinned as he realized she was softly humming to herself, a wistful smile wreathing her face.

"You seem happy," he said as he watched her work.

"I am," she replied with a wide smile. "Deliriously so, in fact. You know, I always felt useless as a noblewoman but now I realize I just wasn't cut out for that life. Here there is always something to be done and for once I actually feel fulfilled."

"How did you meet—what's his name—your husband?" Nathaniel asked as she sat at the table with him.

"I was miserable at the Vigil, Nate, especially without you there as a buffer. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I planned to run away at the very first opportunity. I was so naïve back then! So young and unaware of the way the real world worked. It shouldn't surprise you that I was attacked by bandits on the road to Amaranthine the very night of my escape. They took everything I had and left me for dead on the side of the road. It was Albert who found me, took me in and nursed me back to health. He was so gentle and understanding…and patient, the poor man! I was awful to him at first, but he never complained about my behavior. When I regained my health he offered me a position in his shop in exchange for food and shelter, and as I had nowhere else to go I readily accepted. Eventually we developed a friendship, friendship turned into love, and we've been married ever since," she told him, the expression on her face growing soft at the mention of her husband's name. "What's more I'm…due in the spring. So you see? Your homecoming couldn't be more propitious."

"Y-you're—" Nathaniel began, sputtering, not quite sure what else to say at this news. Delilah's gentle laughter brought him out of his shock, and for the first time since his return, Nathaniel's anger was not foremost in his mind. _My sister…a mother!_ He thought in elation. _I'm going to be an Uncle. _

"Deli, where is last month's ledger? Sister Beatrice insists that they were short two bundles of cornmeal, but I just want to check—well, hullo there," a deep, masculine voice said as a man walked into the room and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Nathaniel sitting at the table.

"Darling, we have a visitor! This is my brother, Nate, finally back from the Free Marches after all these years. Nathaniel, my husband Albert," Delilah said as she jumped from the table.

Albert visibly relaxed at her words and smiled as he offered Nathaniel his hand.

"Ah, so the prodigal brother returns! I'm glad to finally meet you. Delilah has told me much about you, though I must admit I never thought to have the pleasure," he said warmly.

"I wish I could say the same. I didn't even know of your existence until just a few days ago," Nathaniel said as he shook the man's hand. Albert threw back his head and laughed, leaving Nathaniel completely nonplussed.

"That is hardly surprising news," Albert replied with a wink.

"The ledger is on the second shelf of the cabinet beside your desk, my love," Delilah interrupted, silently giving her husband an all-too familiar look Nathaniel knew to mean '_go away'. _

"My thanks," Albert replied, but hesitated before leaving the room. "Will you be staying for supper, Nate?"

"Oh, _please_ say that you will!" Delilah begged him, her eyes as big as saucers as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it pleadingly.

"I—oh, very well."

"Brilliant!" Albert replied with a pleased smile as Delilah clapped her hands in excitement. "I look forward to getting to know you, brother Nate. Deli? I'll be back in time for supper."

Nathaniel studied his new brother-in-law as he murmured his goodbyes to his sister. He was a tall man with a barrel chest, auburn hair and warm green eyes. He looked older than Nathaniel yet still could be considered a young man. He certainly was not what he was expecting, but he could see the affection in both of their eyes as Albert kissed her lightly on the forehead before offering his farewells.

"So?" Delilah asked him expectantly after Albert took his leave.

"He is certainly not the sort I ever pictured you with," Nate began, "But he seems like a good man," he added hastily at the look on his sister's face.

"The best! But wait…who did you think I would end up with?"

"I seem to recall you once saying that nothing less than Fergus Cousland would ever do for you."

"Oh _ho_! So you remember my little childhood crush, do you?" she laughed. "I suppose it's just as well I didn't end up with him, otherwise I would be dead." Delilah clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes widening in horror as the smile dropped from Nathaniel's lips.

"Maker's breath, I'm sorry! I didn't mean…" she cried, sitting heavily in the chair next to him as she tried to contain her emotions. "I sometimes wish I were more like you, brother. You measure your words carefully whereas I…I just let any old thought just fly out of my mouth."

"Delilah…Tell me about what happened with the Couslands," he requested hoarsely, his eyes never wavering from hers.

"Alyx didn't tell you? I'm hardly surprised at that, but I don't think you really want to hear—"

"Tell me. I want to—no—I _need_ to know."

Delilah sighed, eyeing him sadly before standing up and crossing the room to the window. She remained silent for a time, simply staring out at the sea as if there was something she could see within the rolling waves that he could not. He waited patiently, knowing that she would speak when she was ready.

"To hear Father tell it, the Couslands were traitors that deserved their fate, but anyone with any sense would know that he was full of rubbish," she began, still looking out over the water. "It was not long before the battle of Ostagar, and the king had called for more men. Father went to Highever under the guise of friendship and duty to the crown, but he betrayed them all."

It was then she paused to finally look at him. Nathaniel was shocked at the disgust and sadness that warred within her eyes. Whatever she was about to tell him wasn't going to be easy for her to share…or for him to listen to.

"He had his men attack in the middle of the night while everyone was sleeping. They slaughtered them, Nate. Like animals. And it wasn't just the family and their guards; they killed _everyone _within the castle walls_._ Afterwards, they simply dumped the bodies into a pit to rot. Can you imagine the indignity? Those poor souls, murdered by men thought to be friends, only to be sent to the fade unshriven and disgraced. And as if that wasn't enough, instead of heading to Ostagar as he ought, Father headed back to Amaranthine for all the world as if he had been away on holiday."

"How did you learn all of this?" Nathaniel interrupted.

"Father could spread his lies as he wished but it didn't stop his men from boasting of their conquests. I still have nightmares on occasion of the things I overheard about that night, especially concerning what they did with the women before they…" she began, but shuddered at the mere thought of what she had heard. "Let's just say there are some things in this world that are far worse than death. I'm not sure how Alyx escaped that night, but if anybody could find a way it would be her."

"She was _there_?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, or so I've been told. Until today, I hadn't seen or heard from her since, well, before the blight."

_That explains a lot, _he thought as he remembered Falcon's reaction to his outrage. He thought it strange then, but now—now it made sense. He must seem like a spoiled child to her, having a tantrum because his favorite toy was taken away. He might have lost his family too but he hadn't had to witness it as she had. _Why would Father do this? What was he thinking? _He wondered to himself. Rendon Howe had always been a gruff man, but he had prided himself on doing the honorable thing, or so Nathaniel had thought all these years.

"Why?" he whispered, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed his hands into fists.

"Power, why else? Highever was only the beginning for him. After King Cailan's death Father spent his time pouring poisonous lies into Teyrn Loghain's ear, and as a reward he was given the Arlship of Dernerim as well as the Teryna of Highever. There were whispers that he would not stop there, that he would eventually go after the crown itself. I never learned if there was any truth to that, but I wouldn't have put it past him."

"How can you say that, Delilah! He was our Father!" Nathaniel growled.

"You don't know what he was like! What he became!" Delilah cried, tears freely falling from her eyes. "He had Bryce Cousland's head mounted on a pike and placed just outside his bedroom window so he could gloat over his trophy with his morning tea. How can you justify that? You _can't._ He was a monster, Nate. There _is_ no other explanation."

Nathaniel's face turned grey at her words, bile lurching in his stomach. _Lies, _he hissed to himself. _It all had to be lies. _Delilah's gaze softened as she saw the turmoil on his face.

"I know that you loved him. You always have, but he was not the same man you knew before you left for the Free Marches. I wish I could blame it all on the blight, but his madness had started long before the darkspawn attacked the surface."

Delilah continued to tell him of what she knew of his destructive behavior throughout the blight, and although Nathaniel hated to admit it, he had heard some of the same things in his travels. He didn't want to believe it, didn't even want to consider that she spoke the truth, but the pain in his chest told him she was.

"This—is a lot for me to take in, Delilah. Had I known, had I been here..."

"You would most likely be dead yourself. Father would have sent you to Ostagar or worse, and even if he hadn't, there was nothing you could have said or done to change his mind. Even Thomas feared him in the end, and the drunken, lecherous oaf could hardly see past his own prick most days. He…was to inherit everything, Nate. Father disowned you after he heard of Lord Rockfort."

"I—didn't know that, though after what you've told me it figures," Nathaniel said through gritted teeth.

"I thought as much. After we had word about Rockfort's death he forbade anyone from speaking your name in his presence. Mother was devastated. She begged him to reconsider but he would hear none of it. She was never quite the same after the lashing he gave her; it left her bedridden for nearly a week."

"No," he whispered in disbelief, closing his eyes tightly against the pain.

"I'm so sorry. This all must be very difficult for you. Indeed, it has been difficult for me to tell. Then of course I can excuse my haywire emotions on my condition," she said with a smile as she rubbed a hand over her still-flat abdomen. Knowing Delilah, she was likely trying to inject some humor into an otherwise emotional conversation. He smiled sadly at her, but he couldn't bring himself to laugh when he felt like he was falling to pieces. Everything he thought he had known about his Father had been blown to bits in the matter of an afternoon.

"You blame her, don't you?" she asked him softly when he didn't speak. "Alyx, that is. Don't. I wasn't lying earlier when I told her that I was glad she was the one to kill him. He deserved to die, brother, a thousand times over for his wicked deeds. That it was by a Cousland's hand is more than appropriate. You want the culprit who destroyed our family? It was him, without question."

"I did blame her at first…"

"And now?"

"I don't know. She still killed our Father—but…hearing this…I cannot contend that it was her right to do so. It will take some time for me to forgive, but I think perhaps it will take me longer to make amends. I have not been…pleasant to say the least."

"Like a mabari with a bone, no doubt," she said, amused. "You have a chance to redeem our family. Do not waste it on past grievances."

"When did you get so smart?" Nathaniel teased.

"When I learned that I was going to be a mother, naturally. Now come. Help me with supper."

Nathaniel entertained her with tales of his travels and of his companions while he helped her prepare the evening meal. He had her laughing hysterically over Anders and Oghren's many convoluted arguments, and smiling at the Commander's martial skills and random acts of generosity.

"Admit it, brother, you _like_ her," she accused, chuckling at the look on his face. "Which is quite the interesting turn of events if you ask me."

"I do not like her! I barely _know_ her. Until this afternoon I was fairly certain that I hated her," he retorted as he chopped vegetables a little harder than necessary.

"Uh-huh. If you say so," she replied, smirking.

"Wait—what did you mean by that last bit?" he asked suddenly.

"I don't know what you mean…"

"Yes, you do sister. Out with it."

"Well…It's not as if you didn't already know…_Don't_ tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?"

"That she had a huge crush on you when we were children, _of course!_"

"_What!" _

"Do you think that she followed you and Fergus around because she wanted to spend time with her _brother?"_ she asked with a snort. "I can't believe you never saw it! She always used to get this starry-eyed look on her face anytime you were in the same room, and when you did notice her she would blush and run away. She told practically the entire staff that she was going to marry you and have a dozen of your babies when she grew up!"

Nathaniel groaned at this news, which of course made Delilah laugh ecstatically.

"Don't tell her I said anything. I pinky-swore I would never say a word," she said seriously after she caught her breath.

"But if I don't tell her I know her secret, how are we supposed to get married and start on all those babies?" he asked innocently, earning him a swat on the arm.

"Don't you dare, Nathaniel Howe!"

"Alright, alight…I _won't_ tell her…and we'll stick to a half a dozen babies, strictly out of wedlock."

Delilah groaned theatrically, but her eyes sparkled up at him playfully.

"You are _incorrigible!_ I don't know how your companions put up with you."

They continued to tease each other as they worked and before long the meal was ready and set out on the table. Nathaniel had forgotten how much he had missed her company over the years. Delilah had been like a butterfly amongst the moths as a child, with a generous spirit that was far different than that of his other family members. He realized that it was she that he had mourned the most upon hearing of his family's fate. The fact that she was alive and well filled him with a happiness he thought never to feel again.

Albert returned shortly and they all sat down to supper. They chatted and laughed like a normal family, and Nathaniel truly relaxed for the first time in years. Delilah poked fun at him, of course, for eating like a half-starved barbarian, but he shrugged and blamed it on the Grey Warden appetite. He found that he truly liked his brother-in-law. He was a kind, solid man who clearly adored his sister. It warmed his heart to think that something good had come of all of this, and he thanked the Maker for putting Albert in Delilah's path.

Soon it was time for him to say his farewells, though he did so with a heavy heart.

"I know that you have your duties, but you must come and visit whenever possible. Now that you're to be an uncle, I would expect no less from you," Delilah said as she walked him to the gate.

"Aye aye, Ser Deli!" he replied with a mock salute. "Honestly, sister, after these past months of believing you were gone…how do you think I could possibly stay away?"

Delilah smiled fondly at him as she brushed her fingers across his cheek.

"Dearest Nate. I'm sorry you have suffered so, but be glad that you have an opportunity to make things right again."

"Delilah—"he began, but she gently pressed a finger to his lips.

"No, listen to me. I know you far too well, better even then you know yourself. You do not give yourself enough credit. If there was any Howe that could redeem us from the ashes, it would be you, brother. You were always the best of us, Nate, never forget it."

"I—don't know what to say to that."

"You needn't say anything; just take it for what it is. I love you, brother. I couldn't be happier to have you back in my life."

"As am I, Deli. You were always my favorite," he said with a playful smile as he briefly touched the tip of her nose with his index finger. It was a gesture both were long familiar with, and sent a sense of nostalgia running through his veins.

"You must come again at your first opportunity…and bring Alyx with you. I truly do miss her, you know. She was a dear friend once, and I hope to renew our relationship. With all of you men hanging around her all the time, I daresay she could use a little feminine company," Delilah teased before her face turned serious once again. "Do not be too hard on her. She lost far more than her parents during the blight. She might be your Commander, and a formidable warrior no doubt, but she is still a woman with a woman's emotions. So have a care."

"What do you mean by—"

"Are you coming to bed, my love? Early day tomorrow," Albert called from the door, interrupting their conversation.

Delilah smiled apologetically and opened her arms to him. Nathaniel grinned and picked her up into a tight bear-hug that made her squeal in delight. They said their final goodbyes before he headed back up the winding path with a warm feeling of contentment slowly growing inside him. He had a family again, and a new sense of purpose to fill his heart. Now if only he could convince the Commander to forgive him...

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Harvest Time" by Thomas Newman (Little Women OST); "Sir Guy Gisborne and the Escape to Sherwood" by Michael Kamen (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves OST); "The Sacking of Trelawny" by Nicholas Hooper (Order of the Pheonix OST); "Talk of Pod Racing" by John Williams (Phantom Menace OST); "The Road to Perdition" by Thomas Newman (Road to Perdition OST)._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Moving Forward**

Nathaniel was hardly surprised to meet up with his companions in the road as he approached the _Crown and Lion_. He _was_ surprised, however, at the blood that covered each of them from head to toe.

"What on Thedas—"

"Oh, _this?" _Falcon replied flippantly, a look of mock innocence crossing her face. "Just the result of some bandits with a desire to commit suicide via Grey Warden. Being the generous person that I am, I felt it only right to oblige them. Have a nice chat with your sister?"

Nathaniel blinked, astounded as always by her talent for abruptly shifting topics.

"Yes, I did at that," he replied, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched her blow a loose strand of hair from out of her eyes. "It isn't quite the life I would have pictured for her, but she seems to be happy."

"So, let me get this straight…because she isn't married to some slack-jawed, dimwitted nobleman you find it hard to believe that she could be happy?" she seethed, narrowing her eyes at him accusingly.

"That's not—what I mean is—_why_ must you turn around everything that I say?" he sputtered irritably.

"I do not—"

"You _do_, and half of the time you won't even let me finish—"

"I don't—"

_"Alyx!" _he growled through clenched teeth as he closed the distance between them.

She looked taken aback though he couldn't say why. It's not as if he never called her by name before…hadn't he? Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair as he took another step closer to her, forcing her to crane her neck in order to keep eye contact.

"Can we talk—in private?" he asked in a hoarse, low-pitched voice as he swiftly glanced at Oghren and Anders over her shoulder.

"I, ah…yes, of course," she mumbled, eyeing him quizzically as she addressed the others. "You two are dismissed. I'll see you at supper."

Oghren and Anders looked like they wanted to balk, but after a moment of hesitation they both nodded and headed for the inn. Nathaniel did not miss the looks on their faces as they passed by him. Anders' mouth was set in a grim line, clearly expressing his disapproval, and Oghren shot him a look of warning as he cracked his knuckles to exaggerate the not-so-subtle threat. He supposed he didn't deserve anything less, considering his behavior these past weeks, but it still aggravated him to see how little they really trusted him.

_What, do they think I'm going to slit her throat and jump ship? _He inwardly fumed.

It was amusing to think they even believed he could get the drop on the Commander in the first place. He might be an exceptional archer, but her talent with a blade far exceeded his own. That much had become clear in the weeks since his Joining.

Inwardly sighing, Nathaniel realized he had his work cut out for him if he was to mend his fences with his companions. He meant it when he had told Oghren that he would keep his oath. There were many facets of his personality that he was certainly not proud of, but he had always been a man of his word; a trait he didn't plan on changing any time soon. Apparently fighting the darkspawn beside them wasn't proof enough of his intentions. He had underestimated their loyalty to the Commander, especially Oghren, whom was fiercely protective of her.

They walked across the street to sit on a narrow stone bench situated in front of one of Amaranthine's many man-made ponds. Several small oaks weaved a canopy over their heads, casting them both in soft light composed of green and golden hues, only to be enhanced by the approaching twilight. Nathaniel shifted uneasily as he tried to gather his thoughts. He could feel her eyes on him, those eyes that were distinctly like her Father's; always watching, always calculating and absorbing their surroundings like a sponge. He found their intensity most disturbing. Perhaps that is why he was having trouble meeting them now. A cold feeling of apprehension licked down his spine. He thought he had known what he was going to say, but now that she was sitting here in front of him, he was at a loss for words. He concentrated on the sound of trickling water as he beseeched his nerves to calm. He realized too late that he should have waited until he was sure his emotions would not get the better of him, that this…confusion he felt would not cause him to do or say something he may regret later. A battle waged within him, and he was unsure of what the outcome would be.

"I'm sorry about my outburst earlier," she said, startling him from his thoughts. "It's just…well…one of the lay sisters introduced me to a woman in the chantry whose husband went missing several days ago. We found him, but it wasn't pretty. He…hung himself…from the rafters of an abandoned cottage just outside the city gates."

"_No_," Nathaniel gasped, eyes widening with surprise. That was certainly not what he'd been expecting.

"You would think that after all I've been through I would be used to the sight of dead bodies, but it never does get any easier. And to know that he did that to himself…_Maker_, what a waste! That poor woman…but it was not my intention to excuse myself in such a fashion; the discovery just…put me a little on edge is all."

"I would be more surprised if it had _not_ affected you," Nathaniel murmured, instinctively placing a hand over hers.

She jumped a bit at the contact, making him pull his hand back almost immediately. Anger burned through him at the reaction but quickly faded when he noted her expression was one of surprise, not disgust. She must have seen something in his face because she shot him a look of apology before plastering a smile on her lips to cover her embarrassment.

"Here I am rambling on when it is _you_ who wished to speak with _me_. What's on your mind?" she asked.

"It's about my discussion with Delilah," he began carefully. "She told me everything."

"About your father?" she asked, her face dropping.

"Yes. The dirty politics, the subterfuge, torturing innocents, even slave trade for Andraste's sake! I had no idea he had fallen so far. Wait—that's not quite right- I _refused_ to believe he had fallen so far. I thought surely there had to be a reasonable explanation for his actions; that the accusations of treason and worse were nothing but lies spun out of pure malice. He had never been…he wouldn't have ever…not without an honorable reason. Not the man I knew," he explained, his voice hitching as he struggled to hold his emotions in check. "Even as the puzzle pieces all began to fit together I began to make excuses for him in my head.'It was a war', 'he did what he had to', but I couldn't quite believe it. Delilah told me he was a monster; that his…madness…began long before the blight."

"It's true," she said, sadness shining through her eyes. "Though he never showed open contempt towards my family, he had noticeably changed over the years. My Mother held no love for him, and had even begged my Father to cut ties with him altogether. I wish with all of my heart that he had listened to her."

His heart twisted at these softly spoken words. Though it had been three years since the siege, their deaths still obviously caused her pain. There was more to it then she was letting on, but now was not the time to ask. Guilt rose unbidden in his chest. _Had I been here, I could have seen this coming, could have stopped him from committing the unthinkable. _

"I am truly sorry for what he did to your family. I know that doesn't make up for their loss, but I…never wished any harm to come to them. Your parents were always kind to me, and Fergus…well, he was more of a brother to me than my own could've ever hoped to be."

"Ah, yes, Fergus. You will find him far less forgiving than myself. He lost more than any of us in the siege. Oriana and Oren were his life. He yet bears the pain of their loss."

"I can only imagine what he…what the both of you…have suffered. Do you truly believe he would blame me for their deaths?" he asked carefully.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes closing against the simple confession. "I am sorry to say that he would. Perhaps with time he could be made to see reason, but…it is hard to say how he would initially react."

"So you haven't told him you recruited me?"

"No, and I think it's best to keep it that way for the time being."

"I see," he said quietly, not quite happy with her response though he understood her reasoning. "At any rate, I didn't pull you aside to simply hash over my Father's transgressions. I…wanted to apologize for my behavior."

"You needn't," she said before he could continue. "I understand…perhaps more than you know. Had I been in your place, I might very well have acted the same. I won't lie to you Nathaniel. I spent a great deal of time during the blight planning my revenge, but in the end your father didn't give me a choice. Had I not killed him, he would have most assuredly killed me."

He nodded in understanding, though it was still difficult for him to hear. Despite everything he had done, Rendon Howe was still his father; the man who had dangled him and his siblings from his knees when they were children, who gave him his first bow and took pride in his skills as he grew into a young man.

"Why did you never tell me?" he asked suddenly.

"About which? Your Father wanting me dead or the extent of his misdeeds?"

"Any of it."

"Would you have believed me?" she asked, a look of wry amusement crossing her features.

"No. I don't suppose I would have," he replied, returning her smile. She eyed him curiously for a moment before producing a small, tattered, leather-bound volume from out of her pack and held it out to him. "Go ahead, take it. It's your Father's last journal."

"How—"

"I've had it for the past couple of years. The Queen, of all people, gave it to me before his Denerim estate was cleared out for the new Arl. I considered keeping it from you; simply because I didn't think you would accept it. The words may not give you peace, but perhaps it will allow you to better understand his motivations."

"I—thank you," he replied, unsure of what else he could say.

"You're most welcome, Nathaniel. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to go wash the blood out of my hair before supper," she said as she stood.

"Nate."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's just Nate. That's what you used to call me after all, isn't it?" he murmured as he found himself stepping closer to her.

"Yes, I suppose I did at that," she replied carefully as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. His heart fluttered as he met her gaze, nearly drowning in their stormy depths. _Maybe Delilah was right_, he said to himself, perplexed by the very thought that despite everything, he could be even remotely interested in this woman.

"Very well, Nate it is. But do not think that you can get away with calling me 'Little Lexy'. I will feed you to the darkspawn if you even think about it."

He laughed at that, causing her eyebrows to jump in surprise.

"I wouldn't dare tempt your formidable temper, Commander," he teased.

"Alyx is fine…or Falcon if you prefer" she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Too much of that 'Commander' nonsense grates on my nerves after a time."

"Alyx then."

She nodded in approval before turning to head towards the inn. She stopped after a few paces to look back at him over her shoulder. "We're all meeting in the taproom for drinks later. You should join us, Nate."

Then with one last friendly smile, she stepped inside without waiting for his reply. Shaking his head he followed her, realizing too late that he never told her Delilah's message.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"The Confession" by James Horner (Mask of Zorro OST); "Free Like You Make Me" by the Cary Brothers_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 - Dance, Dance Revelations**

A couple of hours later Nathaniel walked into the taproom to find Oghren and Anders already situated at a small table on the other side of the room.

"Howe! You joining in on the festivities?" Anders called as he approached them.

Nathaniel nodded as he pulled up a chair and ordered a drink from a barmaid. He hadn't missed the shock on either of their faces when he joined them.

_So either Alyx didn't tell them I was invited or they didn't think I would actually show, _he mused to himself.

"Where's the Commander?" he asked after taking a healthy swig from his tankard.

"The innkeeper offered to have her armor cleaned. One of them barmaids is findin' somethin' for her to wear in the meantime," Oghren said in his usual gruff manner.

"So what made you decide to join us? Not that I'm complaining. I'm just…curious," Anders asked nonchalantly.

Nathaniel shrugged.

"I wanted a drink."

"Well…alright then," Anders said, obviously not quite believing him. "But if you're to drink with us you should know the rules. Rule number one: Never agree to a drinking contest with Oghren…_ever_."

"Speaking from experience, Anders?"

"Unfortunately…yes."

"Ha! It's not my fault you topsiders can't hold yer booze," Oghren growled. "Sparkle-fingers here didn't even make it past the first round."

"_Yes_, because everyone counts a baker's dozen of ales as _one_ round," Anders complained.

"Orzammar rules," Oghren replied with a shrug.

"So you keep saying, but until I've actually been to Orzammar I'm withholding judgment," Anders replied.

"Suit yerself, mage," Oghren grumbled before turning his attention to Nathaniel. "So, tell me, Howe. This whole quiet and stoic thing you got goin'…must get ye' a lot of action, eh?"

"I take it you are an admirer Oghren?" Nathaniel queried, a wicked smile crossing his lips.

"What? No! No—not unless…no!" Oghren sputtered.

"Which brings me to rule number two," Anders interjected. "Never get drunk _alone_ with Oghren…and before you ask, he tried to pick a fight with me. Claimed I was in cahoots with Hector to steal his pants…which he was still wearing I might add."

"Sodding dog. I'm onto him," Oghren muttered, producing an eye-roll from Anders.

"Another round for ye loves, compliments of yer Commander" a pretty red-headed barmaid chirped with a wink as she sat three tankards on the table in front of them. "She's a lucky gal, to have three strappin' lads such as yerselves as drinking companions, so's I just got done tellin' 'er."

"She's here? I didn't even see her walk in," Anders said excitedly as he craned his neck to look for her.

"Jest popped in a moment ago, love. She's over talkin' to Alma," the barmaid cooed, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the bar.

Nathaniel spotted her just as he heard Anders sharp intake of breath. She was standing at the end of the bar talking with a stocky woman with graying hair and a pleasant smile. He'd become so accustomed to seeing Alyx in leather armor that he hardly recognized her in the simple, homespun dress that she wore. The soft greens and blues of the coarse material were a stunning combination against her creamy skin and dark hair. From this distance she could almost be mistaken for just another barmaid…if it weren't for the ramrod straight posture and distinctive regal presence that marked her as the noblewoman that she was. Her skin was tinged pink, warm and glowing from her bath, and her hair was free of the tight coils she usually wore at her neck. A few tendrils had been pulled back and loosely braided into a rope tied off with a piece of string; the rest flowed in waves down her back nearly to her waist. As startling as her sudden change in appearance was, it was nothing in comparison to the change in her demeanor. The ever-present weariness had left her features and was replaced with a subtle mirth dancing within her cobalt eyes. It made her seem younger; almost carefree in lieu of the serious attitude of the battle-hardened Commander they had all become accustomed to. As he watched she leaned down to listen to something the dwarven bartender was saying, then threw her head back and laughed loud enough to be heard across the room.

"Now _that's_ my girl," Oghren sighed with a contented smile as he relaxed back into his chair.

Nathaniel exchanged a look with Anders, but the mage didn't seem to know what he meant either, judging by the clueless look on his face. Suddenly Oghren turned and glared at Nathaniel.

"Jest what did ye' say to her earlier to make her so chipper?" he asked, eyes narrowing speculatively.

Nathaniel arched an eyebrow in question, but otherwise kept an even expression to hide his surprise.

"Oh, the usual…that I killed all the darkspawn, named her mabari the new Arl of Amaranthine…then of course we made mad, passionate love behind the chantry," he replied in mock seriousness.

Oghren nearly choked on his drink at Nathaniel's words and Anders simply stared at him in shock before hooting with laughter.

"Humor…from _you_, Howe? I'm impressed. I didn't even know you had it in you—uh—I mean—that is to say—" Anders began, sputtering when he realized what he was saying.

"It's alright, Anders. I haven't done anything to prove otherwise," Nathaniel replied calmly.

"Gentleman," Alyx interrupted as she finally approached them, drink in hand.

"Commander," Oghren muttered, raising his tankard in a silent toast.

Alyx patted him on the shoulder before taking a seat in an empty chair between the dwarf and Anders. She took a long draught of her ale, only looking up when she realized the three men were still staring at her. One fine eyebrow arched in question as she looked at each of them in turn.

"What?" she asked obviously amused.

"You look like a girl," Anders said in awe.

"I _am_ a girl," she laughed, playfully punching him in the arm.

"Right. It's easy enough to forget when you're spitting obscenities and covered in darkspawn blood," Anders replied cheekily.

"I guess I could see that," she mused.

"Well, now that yer here we can finally get the party started," Oghren said, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

"No drinking contests, Oghren," she replied sternly.

"See, _she_ knows the rules," Anders said to Nathaniel as he playfully nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Ah, yer no fun, Falcon. How 'bout a game of truth or dare then?" Oghren said.

"_Really_ Oghren?" she said in exasperation, rolling her eyes.

"Come on! Truth or dare was always a good time durin' the blight, or have you forgotten already? He-he," Oghren said, eyebrows waggling suggestively as he chuckled.

Judging from the blush that jumped to the Commander's cheeks, she for one must have had a _lot_ of fun with the game in question. _Hmm, interesting, _Nathaniel thought as he tried not to chuckle at her expression.

"Oh, very well, if the others are game…and no dares that will harm the reputation of the Order, Oghren, _I mean it_."

"Fine. Anders? Truth or dare?" Oghren began.

"Dare," Anders answered swiftly.

"I dare you to proposition that lass over there."

"Which one?"

"The one with the nice rack and blonde ringlets standing by the hearth."

"Is that all?" he asked, a wicked sparkle dancing in his eyes. "Watch and learn, dwarf."

He stood up and made a show of brushing off his robes and smoothing his hair before turning and walking across the room to speak with the young woman in question.

"Why that particular woman, Oghren?" Alyx asked curiously as soon as the mage was out of earshot.

"He-he, overheard her talkin' bout becoming a chantry initiate. _This_ should be interesting," Oghren replied.

"Oghren! What did I just say!" Alyx cried.

"Aww, come on, Falcon. I'm jest havin' a bit o' fun with the skirt-wearin' freak, and if he somehow succeeds, well, then you'll thank me later."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," Alyx replied coolly, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Sure, sure…if you say so, kid," Oghren replied dismissively.

Anders was talking in earnest with the young woman, who appeared to be eating up every word. She was both young and lovely, with a curvaceous figure, perfectly quaffed hair and large green eyes framed by luscious dark lashes, but it was obvious even from across the room that she was an innocent. Anders bent his head to say something low in her ear, but whatever it was did not meet with the young lady's approval. She gasped and slapped him hard across the cheek. Oghren hooted with laughter as the red-faced mage stomped back to their table, glaring at the chortling dwarf.

"Right. You'll pay for that my smelly little friend," Anders fumed as he plopped back down into his chair.

"Bring it on, son," Oghren replied through his hysterics.

"Oh no, repayment will be when you least expect it, dwarf. Nathaniel? Truth or dare?" Anders said.

"Truth," he answered, knowing that nothing good could come from either choice.

"Just what did you do all that time in the Free Marches?" Anders asked.

Nathaniel was startled by his question, but it seemed the mage was truly curious.

"Well, I was squired there from the age of sixteen. When my…term ended, I took whatever work that was available. Mostly scouting, hunting and tracking though I would sometimes pick up more…colorful work. Thus, news from Fereldan rarely reached us until many months after the fact," he explained. "We hadn't even heard about the blight until it was nearly over, and by then there wasn't enough gold in all of Thedas to entice a ship captain to sail to Fereldan."

"_You_ were a mercenary?" Anders exclaimed as he picked out the subtle meaning behind his words.

"From time to time, though it's hardly something I am proud of. I did what I had to in order to survive."

"So _that's_ how you learned so much about poisons," Alyx murmured, leaning back in her chair as she scrutinized him appreciatively.

"Indeed it was. Where did _you_ learn? That's certainly not a skill you would've picked up in Highever."

"Are you not at least going to give me the option of a dare, Nate?" she teased him.

"I'm not counting this as my turn," Nathaniel replied.

"Very well, if you must know it was from an Antivan Crow that traveled with us during the blight."

"You keep unusual company, Commander," Nathaniel replied, eyeing her speculatively before leaning towards her and saying, "Truth or dare?" in a husky voice.

"Truth," she answered.

"What were my Father's last words?" he asked calmly.

He had hoped she would say truth for this very reason. He hadn't been comfortable asking this during their earlier conversation, but now she would have to answer. Anders and Oghren both shifted uncomfortably in their seats as the silence that met his query began to draw out.

"Nate, I—"

"I promise I won't get angry. I'm simply curious," he assured her.

She swallowed hard before turning her eyes away from his momentarily. When she looked back at him her eyes were full of sadness.

"I deserved more," she nearly whispered.

It took a moment for Nathaniel to realize that this was his answer. As the full impact of the words hit him he let out a hard, humorless laugh.

"It figures, actually," he ground out, his jaw setting into a hard line. _Damn my father and his ambiton! _He screamed in his head, though his expression remained level and passive. "Thank you for telling me."

She nodded at him, and then mustered up a smile as she tried to inject some humor back into the game.

"Anders?"

"Dare, my Lady," Anders drawled with a cheeky grin.

"I dare you to drink the entire contents of Oghren's wine skin," she replied with a devilish grin.

"Hey!" Oghren cried.

"You have an entire barrel of that stuff back at the keep, Oghren," Alyx replied practically.

"So I do. Here sparkle-fingers, try not to choke on it," Oghren said, resigned as he handed Anders the skin.

Anders uncorked the top and took a cautious sniff, wrinkling his nose in disgust but dutifully raising it to his lips. He took one sip and then promptly choked, spraying the contents as he gagged.

"What the hell is this stuff?" he gasped as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Dragon's piss," Oghren replied proudly.

"Ugh! I wish I hadn't asked," Anders said.

"Drink up Anders. The challenge was to drink _all_ of it," Alyx laughed.

"You are an evil, evil woman," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Very well, but someone else will have to take my turn while I drink the rest of this vile stuff."

"Falcon?" Oghren said, obviously deciding that he would be the one to take Anders' turn.

"Dare," she replied, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I dare you to plant one on Howe, and I mean a _real_ kiss, on the lips, and not some wise-arsed peck on the cheek," Oghren challenged.

Nathaniel's eyebrows shot up at this though he was well aware this particular dare was not for his benefit. Oghren was eyeing Anders carefully for a reaction, and judging by the wide smirk on his face, he had not been disappointed. No doubt the dwarf wished to level the playing field for their ridiculous wager. Glancing at Anders he noted the mage's face had gone pale as his hazel eyes narrowed in anger at Oghren. If Alyx noticed this exchange, she did not comment on it. Instead she rolled her eyes and stood up to cross to his side of the table. Nathaniel froze as she laid her hands gently on his shoulders and tossed him a small, apologetic smile.

A portion of her hair fell over one shoulder enticingly as she leaned down towards him, making his hands twitch at the sudden impulse to run his fingers through the russet locks. He breathed in deeply as she dipped her head and was immediately immersed in her fresh, clean scent. It was a subtle mixture of soap, leather, and the unexpected hint of something more exotic…jasmine perhaps, though he wasn't sure. His mind ground to an abrupt halt as his senses took precedence, everything else falling away as her lips gently pressed against his, warm and soft. It was a swift kiss; nothing more than a quick brush of the lips, but it was enough to cause every fiber in his body to react. Lust burned through his blood, hard and fast. It took all of his focus to keep from reaching out to bring her mouth back to his, if only to show her what the definition of a real kiss was. The realization left him inwardly reeling and cursing at the same time. Anders had been right all along. For better or worse, Nathaniel wanted her, and he didn't know quite what to think of that.

He ventured a glance at Alyx's face as she pulled away, noting the subtle look of confusion in her eyes as well as the attractive flush of color that had crept into her cheeks. Judging by her reaction, he wasn't the only one affected by the brief encounter.

_Then again, it could just be the ale, _he thought sulkily.

"That was pathetic, woman," Oghren growled.

"Perhaps, but I believe that it met your requirements," she answered in clipped tones before dropping back into her chair.

"I'll take my turn now," Anders announced determinately as he finished the contents of the skin and passed it back to Oghren. "My Lady, truth or dare?"

"Truth," she answered.

Anders was obviously crestfallen at her choice of truth. No doubt he wished to steal a kiss of his own, and Nathaniel was willing to bet that the mage would not let such an opportunity pass without getting a good, long taste of her. Nathniel bristled at the very idea.

_Easy, Howe, _he told himself. _She's your Commander, remember? Not to mention the fact that she killed your father and took your home, _though the mantra didn't quite carry the same weight as it once had. It was strange to think that just this morning he wanted nothing more than to be rid of her, and now he could barely control the desire to kiss her again.

Anders quickly recovered from his disappointment and soon the wicked sparkle returned to his eyes as he asked his question.

"Tell us, my dear. When and to whom did you lose your virginity to?"

"Ugh, _really_ Anders?"

"Inquiring minds want to know," he crooned as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"_Fine._ I was sixteen and in a rebellious faze, and he a knight in my Father's service," she answered.

"Why rebellious?" Anders asked, intrigued.

"If you must know, it was just before my seventeenth birthday and my Mother was planning an extravagant fete in my honor. What she had not told me, and I had discovered by accident, was that she invited every nobleman in Fereldan with an eligible son to partake in the festivities. When I confronted her she said it was high time I started considering my options...options meaning which one of the selfish bastards I would marry so I could produce more grand-babies for her to spoil. I was furious and desperate to do something, _anything_ to put a dent in her plans, so I seduced my best friend."

"Not _that_," Anders chuckled, thoroughly enjoying her tale. "Poor man. No doubt he promptly fell in love with you."

"Maker, I hope not! If he did he never told me, but we both knew nothing could ever come of it. That is precisely why I chose him in the first place. I would lose my virginity to someone I cared about instead of some pompous horse's ass who believed it his right, and he would reap the…uh…obvious benefits from such an arrangement. He and I remained friends, and every once in awhile when the mood struck us, we would be lovers. Nearly gave Fergus a heart attack once when he caught us making love in the barn. I don't know what he wanted to do more, throttle poor Roland or burn his own eyes out with acid."

"I can't believe it! You gave your virginity to _Roland __Gilmore_?" Nathaniel interjected. "Surly you could have done better, Lex."

"I'll ask you _not_ to call me that, Nathaniel Howe, and no. I do not think I could have done. _Ser_ Gilmore was a fine man. I would have far preferred marrying him over the witless, spoiled sycophants my mother insisted on parading in front of me, but my Father would not have approved. Not that it is worth arguing over now, as the point is moot," she replied hautily, her voice dangerously soft.

"Why would your Father not approve?" Anders asked.

"He was the son of a minor Lord, hardly more than a commoner in the eyes of the nobility. Of course that is not the way _I_ saw it, but this was one topic I could not argue with them about. If I was to be leg-shackled, it was to be an advantageous marriage or none at all."

"And what of love?"

"Love rarely enters into the picture when it comes to the noble class, Anders. I hadn't even considered it an option until…after…" she began, sorrow halting her words. "At any rate, I wasn't in _love_ with Roland, though I did love him in my way. I miss him."

"What happened to him?" Anders asked softly.

"He gave his life defending the gates the night of the Highever siege," she replied quietly, her gaze briefly shifting to Nathaniel before her attention returned to her ale.

He felt horrible now, teasing her about a man who had died at the hands of his Father's men. Once again they sat in uncomfortable silence. Somehow Nathaniel didn't think this was what Oghren intended when he called for a game of truth or dare.

"My turn again. Oghren?" Alyx chirped after clearing her throat and plastering a smile across her lips.

"Dare," Oghren grunted.

"I dare you to wear one of Anders' robes for the rest of the evening."

_"What!"_ Oghren cried just as Anders said "No! Absolutely not, Falcon!"

"Are you telling me that you refuse to take the dare Ser Dwarf?" she teased, ignoring Anders' outburst.

"I-alright, alright. Point me in the right direction sparkle-fingers."

"Anders?" Alyx prompted.

"Fine. Take the yellow and green one at the bottom of my pack and _try_ not to make a mess," Andes growled, crossing his arms.

Oghren grumbled obscenities as he walked across the room and up the stairs to retrieve the robe and Andes looked sullen about the whole arrangement.

"You do know I'm going to have to burn those robes after he's done with them, right?" he pouted.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you a new pair," she told him distractedly.

"Alright, but I want a nice pair…_enchanted_, with fur-capped sleeves, leather togs…and preferably in either a nice shade of blue or purple. Ooh! Or maybe in both!"

Alyx sighed heavily, shaking her head in amazement.

"Remind me to introduce you to Leliana one of these days," she murmured.

Oghren's reemergence was met by a wave of laughter. Apparently they were not the only ones to find a dwarf in mage's robes to be humorous. The robes were far too long on him though not quite large enough through the middle. He had attempted to roll the sleeves up for convenience but they kept drooping down past his hands. The side stitching was threatening to give way, being broader in the middle than Anders. Seeing Oghren daintily lifting the hem of the robes like a party dress made them all laugh even harder as he descended the stairs and stomped across the room. Nathaniel expected the dwarf to be spitting mad, but he seemed surprisingly unperturbed by the turn of events.

"Ye' know mage, ye' might jest have a point about these here robes," Oghren said as he ordered another round. "They're nice'n airy like. Can't say I mind lettin' 'Lil Oghren' have the breathin' space."

"Eew! _Definitely_ burning the robes," Anders replied with a shudder.

After the initial reaction to Oghren's grand entrance, things calmed down again and the game was forgotten. Anders regaled them with tales of his many escape attempts from the tower, which made Nathaniel wonder how he ever eluded the templars in the first place. The man was as subtle as a lightning bolt. Oghren and Alyx even exchanged war-stories and outrageous tales of their colorful traveling companions during the blight. The more they drank the more comfortable they all became in each other's company, and soon even Nathaniel was being drawn into the conversation.

Word must have gotten around that the Hero of Fereldan was staying at the inn because suddenly the taproom was filled to capacity. A small group of traveling minstrels set up in the corner of the room and promptly began playing a lively jig. Soon people started to dance, and the atmosphere of the bar rapidly became one of celebration. They all clapped and sang along with the minstrels as they played one familiar tune after the next. One bold young man bounded up to their table and grabbed Alyx by the hand, smoothly pulling her into the dance. Nathaniel would have expected a fight, but she went readily with a laugh on her lips as she grabbed her skirts and whole-heartedly threw herself into the complicated steps.

It was amazing to see her this way, her guard completely down, face flushed with exertion and laughter as she danced with the commoners as if she was one of them. Her hair flew out around her as she twirled in time with the music and her face glowed with pure joy and contentment at the simple pleasure.

The musicians paused to let one of the minstrels pull forth a new instrument from his pack. It was a long ebony pipe that flared out at the end. Immaculate runes were carved into the wood which glowed a subtle blue against the flickering firelight.

Shortly the music began again, the pipe weaving a multi-layered, hypnotic tone through the rest of the tune. A wispy stream of ethereal smoke snaked out of the end and began to twist and change as it pulsed in time to the music. Nathaniel recognized the enchantment immediately, though he hadn't seen this sort of performance for many years.

The wisp darted into the crowd of dancers with astonishing speed, circling one person after another until it stopped in front of a bearded man with bright, red hair. Suddenly the wisp grew and shifted into the image of a mabari, playfully barking and wagging its nub of a tail as it bounced around the red-headed man in delight. Nathaniel knew the wisp would take different forms as it passed through the crowd, bending to the whims of each specific person in turn. The dancers and the watching crowd clapped and laughed as the spectral form changed again and again. The mabari turned into a stag, the stag into a wolf, and the wolf into a scantily clad woman who seductively danced around a group of sailors. The incorporeal woman turned into a hawk that crashed into the chest of a young girl, combusting into a thousand pieces and transforming into a flock of butterflies that swirled around her and made her giggle. And so it continued down the line from dancer to dancer. Nathaniel's eyes widened when the wisp turned into a dragon that breathed an ethereal fire as it looped around an off-duty guardsman. The dragon dipped low to the ground and slithered towards Alyx like a serpant, slowly changing form as it drew closer. It curled into itself until it became a pair of boots, followed by a set of well-muscled legs, an abdomen, broad shoulders, and then finally a head with close-cropped, tousled hair, laughing eyes and a lopsided grin.

Oghren swore colorfully under his breath at the sight of the apparition, and with good reason if Alyx's reaction was anything to judge by. She had gone completely still, her face draining of all its color as the figure closed the distance between them. The apparition stopped directly in front of her, the look on his face turning profound as he eyed her. It was an expression of intense longing; of unadulterated emotions that could only be worn by a man desperately in love. The entity reached up to cup her small face in his hands, slowly lowering his head as if to kiss her, but as his lips were about to claim hers, the man melted into a mist and disappeared altogether.

The music had stopped, as did the dancers who were watching with great interest. Some of them shot her open looks of pity, and others were excitedly gossiping about what they had just witnessed. Alyx had not moved or noticed any of them, her eyes staring unseeing at the spot the phantom man had vanished. She stood like that for a long minute before turning on her heel and walking across the crowded room to the stairs.

"Alyx!" Oghren called after her, his gruff voice thick with emotion.

Nathaniel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had never heard Oghren call her by her given name. Anders stood; obviously meaning to go after her, but Oghren grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"Leave her be," he said.

"But—"

"_Believe me_. She would not thank ye' fer bargin' in. Not when she's like this."

Anders glared at Oghren before shooting a worried look up the stairs. No doubt he had seen the same troublesome expression on her face that Nathaniel had before she had turned and walked away.

"What was that?" Anders asked at the same time Nathaniel asked, "Who was he?"

"That," Oghren said with a heavy sigh "Would be Alistair."

"Alistair…as in _the_ Alistair…the Grey Warden who slayed the archdemon?" Anders gasped.

"Aye, that was him," Oghren replied.

"She loved him," Nathaniel guessed out loud. He recalled Delilah's words from earlier in the day:

_Have a care, brother. She lost more than her parents during the blight…_

"Aye, that she did, Oghren confirmed."Those two had a bond unlike any I've ever seen. Losin' him, well…she's never been the same since."

"That just doesn't seem like her, to fall to pieces over a man, or anything for that matter," Anders replied.

"Ha! Spoken like a man who's never been in love. Goin' through somethin' like tha' can change a person; even destroy 'em if they let it," Oghren growled, his voice growing thicker with drink and emotion as he stared off into space.

Nathaniel watched the dwarf's face, realizing that there was a deeper meaning to his words then he was letting on. He got the feeling the Oghren was speaking from experience, though he wasn't about to ask. He really knew next to nothing about the dwarf's past beyond his travels with Alyx during the blight. For the first time he wondered if there was an actual explanation behind Oghren's drinking, and not just a bad habit as he assumed. Perhaps that was why the Commander was so tolerant of his behavior.

"What was she like…before?" Anders asked curiously.

"Hehe, like a force of nature, tha' one," Oghren replied warmly as memories swam behind his eyes. "She wasn't called the 'Cousland Spitfire' for nothin'. Had a wit sharper than those blades of hers, and a fiery disposition to match. She could turn the heads of every man in a crowded room with a single smile and a laugh. Used to drive Alistair mad with jealousy, even though it was _his_ tent she went to of a night. Even her fightin' style was different then. An' to see those two fightin' together? It was really somethin'. They _danced_ on the battlefield, anticipatin' each other's movements, like two parts of a whole. Now…well, you've seen her battle."

He and Anders both nodded in agreement. The Commander could be truly frightening amidst a skirmish. There was a bitter flavor to her fighting style, vehemence in every swing of her blades. If he didn't know any better, Nathaniel might think she _wanted_ to die, but it was not within her nature. Duty and honor were within her nature; hope and tenacity were certainly like breathing in and out to her, but not the desperation that would lead her or anyone to do such a thing.

"I wonder if her Father would've approved of him," Anders murmured, breaking into his musings.

"Aye," Oghren replied with a snort.

"How do _you_ know?" Anders asked, surprised.

"Trust me. He would've," he growled back.

Then suddenly Oghren shot up in his chair, leaned over and grabbed Anders by the front of his robes.

"By the way, _sparkle-fingers_. About our little bet…There ain't no one who needs a tumble worse than the Commander, but she's had enough heartache to last two lifetimes. So if you somehow talk yer way into her bed, don't go breakin' her heart or I'll break yer puny neck. Savvy?"

"Savvy," Anders croaked, his lips pinching together in a thin white line.

"And that goes for you too, Howe. Don't think I didn't see the way you were eyein' her all night," Oghren growled as he swung his head around to glare at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel threw his hands up in surrender. Although his sudden interest was still new and perplexing he knew better than to think anything would or could ever come of it. After all that had occurred? There was too much bad blood between them. It would take a miracle to salvage a friendship let alone something more. No, Oghren needn't be concerned on that front. Alyxandria Cousland would never see him as anything other than subordinate, and as far as she would ever know, he wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Two Hornpipes (Tortuga)" __by __Hans Zimmer __(Dead Men's Chest OST); "Saturday in the Park" by Chicago; "Letters from the Sky" by Civil Twilight; __"Nottingham Burns__" by __Marc Streitenfield __(Robin Hood OST); __"Murron's Burial"__ by __James Horner __(Braveheart OST). _


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 - Painful Truths**

Alyx stood out on the moonlit balcony, blankly staring over the silver-tipped waves of Lake Calenhad. The stars were out in full force, shining brightly in stark contrast to the night sky. They seemed to pulse in time with the soft rhythm of evening sounds that just seemed so utterly _normal_ it was almost surreal after the trials of the past several hours. She pulled her dressing gown tightly over the simple nightshift generously lent to her by Lady Isolde, shivering as a cool evening breeze wafted up off the water.

A range of emotions passed over her features as she recalled the events of the day. Fear…desperation…determination…pure, unmitigated joy…but mostly fear. She willed herself to keep it together, if not for herself then for her companions, but most especially for _him._ She gnawed on her bottom lip, hoping she had made the right decisions, but the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she had yet to truly believe she had. She hugged herself tightly, nails biting skin through the light-weight fabric.

She sensed his presence even before two strong, achingly familiar arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a warm, solid chest. Lips brushed against her temple, feather-light, followed by a trail of similar kisses pressed against the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Come to bed, love," he said in a low, husky voice by her ear as he nuzzled his nose into the bend of her neck.

She shivered again, this time in anticipation.

"Alistair—"

"_No_. I know what you're going to say, but not tonight," he growled as he turned her to face him. "Tonight should be just about you and me. We'll have plenty of time to talk over the next few days."

Blue eyes met hazel, a silent battle waging between them as they stared deeply into each other's eyes. Alyx finally sighed, a small smile briefly hitching up one side of her mouth as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest.

"Make love to me?" she whispered as she snuggled into his warmth.

His chuckle reverberated deep in his chest, pleasantly vibrating against her cheek. She knew he was smiling down at her though she could not see his face.

"With pleasure," he replied softly before pulling away far enough to claim her lips with his own.

The kiss began as a gentle caress, slow and sultry, but soon deepened in intensity until they were both frantic with desire. They moved as one through the open doors leading back inside, shedding clothing in their wake.

Somehow they made it to the bed, though how, she couldn't recall. He pressed her gently into the folds of the soft, feather-down mattress as he balanced himself over her, need stamped in every line of his face as he lowered his head to devour her mouth.

Alyx very nearly purred as she ran her hands over the broad expanse of his shoulders and traced the planes of his sculpted back. She could never get over how beautiful he was. Velvety, golden skin wrapped around steel that rippled like water under her fingertips. A sweet feeling of possession coursed through her as she marveled over the fact that she was the only woman to have ever touched him this way.

Alistair's hands were _everywhere_, and wherever they led his mouth followed, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. They played a little game of give and take until both of their breathing was ragged, their bodies slipping and sliding against each other from the thin sheen of perspiration that coated them both. The pressure building within her begged for release, but no matter how she pressed him with her tender ministrations, he was insistent on drawing things out.

"Alistair, _please_," she panted as she arched her body against him imploringly. I need you inside me _now."_

He moaned, eyes turning nearly black in intensity as his self-control snapped. She cried out in pleasure as he entered her in one, smooth motion and reflexively tightened around him, making him growl deep in his throat in response.

"Maker, woman! Are you _trying_ to kill me?" he breathed before grabbing her hips and repositioning them so he could move even deeper inside her.

There was a moment; hardly more than a second or two, that she realized that there was something different about their lovemaking this time. There was a sense of desperation that had not been there before, and it didn't take a genius to understand why. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she realized this could be their last night together. Then he was moving inside her and she lost all sense of time and space as they climbed to the apex together. She screamed in pleasure and shuttered against him, stars dancing in front of her eyes as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over her, intensifying as he let out a guttural cry of his own when he climaxed a heartbeat later.

They laid there intertwined for a long time afterwards, their hearts racing in unison as the aftershocks of their lovemaking swept over them. Eventually he propped himself up on one elbow, a lazy, sated grin flashing across his beloved features. He traced the chain around her neck with one callused finger, and then gently thumbed the amulet that was cradled between her breasts. It had been his mother's amulet…and now it was hers. It was such a simple thing, just a modest silver piece with Andraste's holy flame etched on one side, but it held a depth of meaning that only the two of them could know. His gaze flicked back to her face, his expression quickly changing to one of wonder.

"You know, I still can hardly believe it," he murmured.

"Believe what?" she asked, an amused smile spreading across her face.

"That you are mine," he replied softly, "As I am yours."

Tears threatened once again, the intensity of his gaze nearly undoing her altogether.

"I love you," she whispered, tenderly cupping his cheek in one hand.

"And I you…always," he replied as he briefly leaned into her touch.

Slowly, he lowered his head to claim her lips once again. She closed her eyes and reached out to draw him closer, but her arms grasped only empty air. Her eyes shot open, panic climbing into her throat.

She was no longer in the guest room at Redcliffe.

The stench of sulfur, blood and death surrounded her, the screams of men and darkspawn alike filling the air in bone-chilling familiarity. The feral cry of a dragon pierced the air and shook the ground beneath her feet. _The archdemon, _she thought as every hair on the back of her neck stood up on end. That was when she saw him; face streaked with blood and sweat and a determined gleam in his eyes.

"No!" she breathed, recalling the argument they had just that morning.

"_Of the two of us I_ _am the Senior Warden, so if it comes down to it I should be the one to slay the archdemon_," he had pronounced in grim determination.

"_Absolutely not! You are the _King_, Alistair! Fereldan needs _you_, not I. I have nothing else to lose, save you," _she argued.

"_You're wrong, Alyx, in so many ways. I didn't want to be King, but now that I am…there is no greater gift that I could offer my people than to end the blight, here and now. I will not…nay…I_ cannot_ let you sacrifice yourself." _

She knew in that instant what he was planning and her blood ran cold. Without thinking she sprinted forward, praying with every fiber of her being that she would make it to the archdemon before he did, but in her haste she stumbled and tripped, falling hard against the stone floor. Her breath left her body in a _woosh_ as she hit the ground with a hollow thud. The sickening crack that followed told her that something had broken, but she was beyond feeling any physical pain. She lay there spread-eagle and coughing up blood for half a heartbeat, staring at the ground as if the answer to the world was written in the cracked stone, and then her mind snapped back into focus.

She looked up just in time to see him disappear underneath the beast's belly, and judging by its cry of pain, his aim was true. The archdemon writhed like a worm on a hook, its bloodshot eyes rolling wildly. Alistair appeared again, blood-soaked and grim. He stumbled towards it, purpose written in every line of his body as he raised his sword to strike, but hesitated as he glanced up at her over its monstrous head. It was only a split second, but she saw _everything _in his eyes at that moment: apology, sorrow, regret, fear, resolve, but above all else, love; strong and endless. She tried to scream, to tell him to stop, but nothing would come out. She watched as he lowered the blade into the archdemon's skull with a sickening bellow, blade flashing as it slid home. A bright, fathomless light shot out from the wound, growing in strength until it was blinding. All of a sudden the beam exploded in a burst of light and sound. She screamed his name once in agony, and then the world faded to utter darkness.

* * *

Alyx startled awake, a broken sob escaping her lips before she could stop herself.

_No, no! Not again, please not again, _she chanted in her head as tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her face.

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last that she had relived those last days of the blight…that bittersweet night at Redcliffe before the march to Denerim, always followed by the battle atop Fort Drakon. Those images had haunted her dreams night after night for months on end until she thought she would lose her mind. Yet it had been so long since the last nightmare that she thought she was finally free of their torment.

_Why now? _She asked herself as she struggled to collect her thoughts.

That's when it hit her. _I saw him, _her mind whispered just as his name escaped her lips. She knew he hadn't been real, but even an ethereal version of Alistair had brought forth feelings and memories that she had tried so hard to bury deep inside of herself.

_I thought I was over this…I was getting better, _she thought as she closed her eyes against the pain.

And she _had_ improved.

Directly after the blight, simply breathing in and out had been a chore, and then as her health improved, taking one step in front of the other. When she was well enough to travel she had gone back to Highever with Fergus, but even then she was detached and unwell. She remembered how exhausted she had felt when they finally arrived at her childhood home. She had expected to feel _something_ as she walked through the familiar halls, still a mess from Howe's machinations, but it wasn't until much later that she felt anything but…_empty_. She hardly ate or slept, never even left her room or spoke unless spoken to until Fergus, Wynne and Leliana ganged up on her and forced her to take care of herself. With good reason as it turned out. She had been lucky to have so many people who cared for her enough to keep her from completely falling over the precipice.

It wasn't until she had been home for more than a year that she finally gained some semblance of peace. She was not entirely whole, nor did she think she would ever be again, but they had fallen into a daily rhythm that kept her mind and heart quiet. The blight was over, Highever had been restored to its former glory, and her brother was beginning to come to terms with his new position as Teryn. Just thinking of those times made her yearn for her small yet devoted family, but Highever was no longer home. Amaranthine was, and the sooner she got used to it the better.

She shot up in the bed and the world immediately tilted on its axis. Alyx groaned as her head pounded in time with the lurching of her stomach. She reached up to put her head in her hands and immediately winced at the sharp pain that stabbed through her left hand and shot straight up her forearm. When she looked down at her hand she saw that it was deeply gashed and caked with dry blood. She sat there and stared at it unblinking for a confused moment, then glanced down at the bed sheets and noticed that they, too, were covered in blood.

_Curious, _she thought before spotting the reason for her injury.

The mirror that had been hanging above the washstand across from the bed was now laying on the floor in a hundred pieces. She blushed as she recalled her actions of the night before. She had punched the first thing she saw, and unfortunately it had been the poor, defenseless mirror_...or not so defenseless, _she thought wryly as she looked at the bloody mess she'd made.

She remembered coming to her rooms, desperately trying to contain her emotions until she was alone. As soon as the door had closed behind her she had let out all of the anger and pain that had been building up within her ever since she had accepted the position of Warden-Commander. Seeing _him_ had simply been the final straw. She supposed it could have been far worse than a broken mirror, considering how intoxicated she had been, but it still didn't excuse her actions. With a sigh she realized that the innkeeper would be angry when he found out, and rightly so. She would have to compensate him, and generously if she had any hope of keeping this quiet.

She roughly brushed the tears from her face as disappointment set in. _Get a hold of yourself! _She silently scolded. _This is not how a leader acts. How can your men trust you if you can't even take care of yourself? _

Fear crept over her as she realized that her companions had witnessed her breakdown last night. She knew that Oghren would understand, but Anders and Nate? Would they see it as a weakness? What would stop Anders from running off, or Nathaniel from using it against her? After all, she had done nothing to gain their loyalty.

Slowly, Alyx stood and shuffled to the washstand, her head throbbing with every step. Gritting her teeth she poured water into a chipped bowl and began the painful process of cleaning her wounded hand. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a light knock on the door.

"Enter," she commanded, hiding her arm behind her back as she turned just in time to see Anders meekly poke his head through the open doorway.

"Ah, so you _are_ awake," he said as he strolled into the room, but stopped short when he saw the shattered mirror and bloodied sheets. Anders sighed. "Show me."

Blushing, Alyx held out her hand for his inspection. He cursed colorfully as he took her hand in both of his and moved it from side to side to examine the full extent of the damage.

"You're lucky, Commander," he murmured as he gently ran his fingers over her wrist. "Another inch lower and you might have bled out before anyone would've thought to bother you."

She blushed even harder at his words, averting her eyes momentarily as he grabbed the cloth she had been using to continue cleaning the dried blood from her wounds. When she glanced back at him she noticed that his mouth was set in a thin, grim line as he concentrated on his work. A lick of fear crept into her chest as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Anders?"

"Hmm?"

"This isn't what it seems. I would never…"

"I know," he said with a small smile. "You don't have to explain, my dear. Just promise me something? The next time you feel like picking a fight with an inanimate object…_resist_."

She chuckled, and then winced as her head reeled from the motion. _I am never drinking again, _she told herself.

When he finished cleaning her wounds his large hands engulfed her own, fingers briefly glowing blue as he worked the healing spell. A subtle warmth spread through her hand and up her arm, and then dissipated as he released her. She looked down at her hand, flexing her fingers as she appreciated his handy work. There was no evidence of injury to be seen or felt.

"Thank you, Anders. You are Maker sent."

"I doubt the templars would agree with you there," Anders replied cheekily before his expression turned serious once again. "Are you sure you're alright? You look a little…green."

"Oh, I'll be fine. Just suffering from the after affects of ill-advised overindulgence," she grumbled and then narrowed her eyes at him speculatively. "Why aren't _you_? You drank more than I did."

"You forget my dear Lady, that I have magic at my disposal. Hold still," he replied as he wrapped his long fingers around the back of her neck. She sighed with pleasure, head reflexively falling onto his arm as warmth washed over her, melting away the residual pain. She glanced up at him when he dropped his hand and was confused by the strange, almost strained expression on his face. _Hmm,_ _interesting. _

"My thanks," she murmured with a grateful smile.

"I…uh…you're welcome," he said gravely once he cleared his throat.

"So…now _that's _out of the way…why did you come knocking on my door in the first place?" she asked.

"Oh. Right, that. The rest of us were planning on grabbing a bite to eat. Thought you might be hungry, so I decided to come let you know before Oghren ate everything in sight."

"I suppose I could use some food in my stomach. Be down in a minute?"

Anders nodded and turned on his heel to leave.

"Anders?" she called as he reached the door. He turned and raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"Can you not…say anything about…you know…" she said, pointing at her newly-healed hand.

"Of course," he replied, his eyes softening slightly as he threw a small smile in her direction before leaving the room.

Alyx noticed her armor had yet to be returned, so she was forced to make do with the borrowed dress from last night. It was a bit worse for wear since she had never changed out of it before falling into her bed, but there were worse things than appearing a bit rumpled in public. She splashed her face with clean water and rearranged her hair in her normal coiled braids before leaving the room.

Oghren, Anders and Nathaniel were already gathered at a table full of food in the middle of the taproom. Apparently Anders hadn't been joking. At the rate her companions were eating, the fare would have all been gone had he not come to get her.

"It's 'bout time you joined the livin'," Oghren grumbled as she sat next to him.

"_Ha, ha_," she muttered as she began piling food on a spare trencher. "_You_ have no room to talk my dwarven friend."

"So what's the game plan, Falc?" Oghren continued, ignoring her last comment as he rolled half-masticated food around in his mouth like a grazing cow.

"We'll stay in Amaranthine for a couple more days. Scout for more information, take care of some loose ends…maybe check into the smuggling problem for Constable Aidain. Then I thought it best to head towards the Wending Wood. If the darkspawn _are_ attacking the caravans, we need to stop them before the city runs out of supplies. If we're lucky we might even be able to salvage something in the process, even save a few lives if we're _really_ lucky."

They all nodded in agreement before falling into silence as they ate. Soon Alyx grew agitated by the anxious glances Anders and Nathaniel kept throwing in her direction. They were being _careful_ with her, like she was a fragile piece of Orlesian glass. At first she thought Anders might have gone back on his word and said something to the others about her little incident, but she knew that Oghren would never let something like that slip by without…_Oghren. _She ground her teeth in frustration as she realized what the source of their concern had to be.

"The rest of the day is yours, gentleman," she said finally as she stood and stretched at the end of the meal, straining to keep her words light. "Oghren, a word if you would…_in private._"

Alyx turned on her heel and walked out of the front door of the inn, never turning to see if he was behind her though she knew he would follow. She _almost_ smiled when she heard the other two cat-calling and teasing him as he grumbled obscenities behind her. She stopped near the spot that she and Nathaniel had talked yesterday afternoon and swung back around to shoot an accusatory look at the grim-faced dwarf.

"_You told them?" _she hissed.

"What?" he grunted. "I had to tell'em somethin' after you went tearin' out of here last night. It's not like it's a big secret or nothin'. You were _engaged_ to the man."

"And for all anyone knew it was a political match," she growled. "Exactly _what_ did you tell them?"

"Just the bit 'bout the two of ye bein' mad for each other…and the archdemon _thing_."

"And?"

"And that's it, I swear…for the most part…"

"Oghren!"

"What?"

"There are some things that are to be kept secret _for a reason_. If you said anything about—"

"No! I would never…_Ancestor's tits_ woman! I was drunk, not suicidal!" he growled, an expression of hurt crossing his face.

Alyx sighed, pinching her nose between two fingers as she tried to calm herself. She suddenly felt like she was kicking a puppy…granted a drunken, fowl smelling puppy, but a puppy nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, Oghren. I _do_ trust you, it's just…how am I to convince the others to follow my lead if they believe I'm going to fall to pieces at the mere mention of his name?"

"I get it, Falc, better than those two nug-humpers ever could."

"I know that, Oghren," she replied softly.

"Besides, I think that's the least of yer worries, at least when it comes to those two."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"No? Ah, well, it's no skin off my arse if ye can't see what's right in front of ye'," he said with a shrug.

"Oghren?"

"Huh?"

"_You _don't think I'm unstable, do you?" she asked nervously, wringing her hands.

"Look," he sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "I know what losin' him did to ye'. I was there. Sod it, I probably know better than anyone how hard it is to go through that hell. Ye've done good, kid, and I respect ye for pickin' yerself up like ye did."

"Thanks, Oghren. You've been a good friend," she replied warmly.

"Don't let anyone tell ye otherwise, Falc. Oghren's got yer back."

She laughed at that and surprised him by giving him a quick hug.

"You know I love you, right?" she said.

"He he, jest don't tell Felsi," Oghren mumbled. "Uh…not to ruin the warm and fuzzy-like mood, but…you do know they will eventually find out about…you know…right?"

"Yes, I am quite aware of that, but if and when that happens, _I_ will be the one to tell them. Understood?"

"Aye, Commander."

"Good. And if for whatever reason you decide to regale them with anymore stories of my past…_don't_," she commanded.

"Hey! At least I didn't tell 'em ye were gonna' be Queen," he said defensively.

"Marvelous," Alyx said with a sigh.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"My Love" by Sia__; __"Betrayal and Desolation" by James Horner __(Braveheart OST); and __"Together We Will Live Forever" by Clint Mansell __(The Fountain OST)._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 - Smuggler's and Pledges**

"These idiots just can't take a hint, can they?" Alyx growled in irritation as she wiped her blades free of blood for the fifth time that day…or was it the sixth? Nathaniel had lost count. He silently shook his head in mild amusement as he watched their suddenly overzealous Commander crouch over the dead figure of the man they had been tracking all afternoon.

It had been three days since their arrival in Amaranthine; days spent mostly amid boredom and in taking care of tedious (yet supposedly "important") tasks for their fearless leader. Nathaniel knew what she was really about though…Alyx was avoiding them, or had been until this morning when she announced that they would be clearing the city of the unscrupulous smugglers taking advantage of the supply dearth.

Constable Aidan had been more than happy to give them what little information he had on the situation, gleefully pointing them in the direction of the market district with a vague description of a man thought to be trading black-market goods for exorbitant prices. The market had been inundated with mid-day shoppers, yet they were able to spot their target with relative ease. Alas, the man recognized them as well and took off through the milling crowd at a dead sprint upon seeing them.

They soon found out exactly how extensive and organized the smuggling operation actually was, but not in the way any of them could have expected. The suspected man led them on a merry chase through the city streets, sending out wave after wave of hired goons in the attempt to waylay them. Unfortunately (for the smuggler), his efforts only served to anger Alyx further. By the time they caught up with him at the city gates it was obvious she was done entertaining his little game of hide and go seek.

"Stupid git," Alyx spat as she glowered at the inert form at her feet. "He led us right to them." Turning, she displayed the items she had pilfered from the dead man's pockets; a heavy brass key and a map detailing the underground network the smugglers had been using to move goods in and out of the city unnoticed. "I swear, criminals have to be the cockiest sons-of-bitches in all of Thedas," she scoffed as she shoved the items in her pack.

"Either that or the most foolish," Anders murmured from beside her. "At least this one didn't insist on delivering a dramatic monologue before he died."

"And thank the maker for that," she agreed before signaling them to follow her.

Nathaniel would normally roll his eyes or offer his own dry retort to this exchange, but the fact of the matter was that this was the most she had said in days. Ever since their first night in Amaranthine he had noticed a sudden change in Alyx's attitude. He hadn't known quite what to expect the morning after their "revelries" in the taproom, but it was not the calm and collected woman that had waltzed down the stairs and pulled up a chair…as if she had not almost fallen to pieces in front of everyone and ran off like she had seen a ghost (which he supposed she had). The warmth and openness she had begun to show that night had been unequivocally thrust into a guarded part of her mind, the door firmly slammed behind it. Nathaniel had a fleeting moment of petulance when he realized she was dodging him, but then he noticed she wasn't speaking to Anders or Oghren either. He was perplexed by her sudden withdrawal into herself, but even further confounded by his desire to fix it.

Somehow this "Alistair" was the key. Nathaniel was curious as to what sort of man he had been to have earned such utter devotion from their prickly leader. He cornered Oghren after his little private chat with her, but the dwarf refused to say anything more on the subject.

"I'm already in enough trouble for sayin' as much as I did. The Falcon's a private woman, though ye wouldn't think it with all the sodding 'Hero' mumbo jumbo the common folk keep yammerin' about," the dwarf said as he scratched his beard contemplatively.

"Yes, I understand that, but I am asking about _Alistair, _not Lex—Falcon," Nathaniel retorted.

"Don'tchya see? It's all relative when it comes to those two. Might as well've already been leg-shackled by the end of the blight instead of just engaged as it was."

"Engaged, huh?" Nathaniel replied slyly as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair with a smug smile.

"Nug stones! Ye tricky bastard, ye ain't gettin' anymore outta' me!" Oghren exclaimed, his face turning beet red in embarrassment at his slip-up.

"Fine. Whatever you say, dwarf," he replied nonchalantly.

"But why all the secrecy?" Anders asked from across the table. "It's not like it's forbidden for Grey Wardens to be together—is it?"

"He-he, worried about dippin' yer quill in forbidden ink, eh, mage?" Oghren leered, ignoring the look of disgust both he and Anders threw in his direction. "I asked her about that once durin' the blight; said that it was frowned upon but not forbidden. Guess they figured that Wardens sacrifice enough without throwin' celibacy in to boot. Besides, their relationship was no secret. Anyone with eyes could see that they were mad for each other. It's the grief she don't want spread around like a bad case of the Anitvan willy-pox…thinks it'll make her look weak or what have ye'."

"Or maybe it just makes her human," Nathaniel muttered under his breath.

"Truth is she would've been fine had you two kept yer pityin' looks for someone who wants 'em. Humph! Starin' at her like she's gonna' spontaneously combust or somethin'. You just wait'n see. She'll be bendin' herself over backwards tryin' to prove to ye' sodding idiots that she's a capable leader."

"But she doesn't have to prove anything to us!" Anders cried in surprise.

"_Oh no?_ Well ye have a sodding lousy way of showin' it, between yer 'Woe is me! I'll never be truly free! Protect me from the nasty templar-men Falcon!' and Howe's _daddy _issues," he growled, thrusting a beefy finger in Nathaniel's direction. "Have either of ye even thanked her for savin' yer pathetic lives? _Huh?" _

Both Anders and Nathaniel stared at him in shock at first, and then shifted in their chairs as embarrassment set in. Nathaniel inwardly winced. Guilt seemed to be a common emotion for him lately.

"Yeah, I thought not," Oghren continued. "The both of ye are useless if ye ask me. Two grown men cryin' like a couple'a babies…my kid don't whine near as much as you nug-humpers!"

As they followed Alyx back through the marketplace, Nathaniel realized that Oghren had been right. He and Anders really hadn't done anything to earn their Commander's faith, nor had they proven themselves worthy of the title Grey Warden. And yet she was worried about what _they_ thought of _her_? How absurd and so…_so like Lexy, _he thought with a smile. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that it took a moment to realize that they were heading _out_ of the city.

"Uh, Commander? Isn't the guard house that way?" he asked, pointing behind them.

"How very observant of you, Nathaniel," she drawled.

_So it's back to formalities now, is it? _He bristled at the thought.

"Funny that we're walking in the opposite direction then. Should we not be turning this information over to the Constable?" he asked.

"No."

"_No? _Why ever not?"

She stopped and turned to shoot him a look that reminded him so much of his mother that he had to suppress a shudder. It was a look that brooked no argument.

"Because I intend to put these bastards out of business myself," she replied haughtily before turning on her heel and continuing down the riddled dirt path.

Nathaniel scowled at her retreating form. He didn't care for the determined, almost wild look in her eyes. It made his stomach churn uneasily.

"Falcon?" Oghren called.

"Yes?"

"Where we goin'?"

"To the smuggler's hideout of course," she replied dismissively.

"What?" Anders yelped. "We're going to attack them on their own ground? Are you out of your mind, woman?"

"Exactly _who_ is in command here, Anders?" she asked coldly.

"You are, but—"

"Then do not question my orders. If you don't like it, you can bloody well go back to the inn and wait for us," she snapped.

Anders was obviously surprised at her reaction, but was wise enough not to comment at her outburst. Nathaniel frowned, his apprehension spiking at her abuse of the mage. Alyx _never_ yelled at Anders.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, each member of their small group engulfed in their own thoughts. _Maker, I hope she knows what she's doing, _he thought as he tried to shake off the feeling of foreboding.

There were only two men guarding the entrance of the abandoned house that led to the smuggler's hideout. Once they were dealt with she led them inside a single-room building that was empty beyond some empty sacks and a large, wooden trap door at the far end. Nathaniel could hear the tumblers click open and the screech of rusted hinges as she unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a set of rickety stairs. Without a word she descended into the dark recesses, the others following behind her.

The stairs led to a set of rooms filled with crates, barrels and sacks likely containing appropriated items that made up the black-market trade. Nathaniel was disgusted with the whole idea though he knew how typical such acts were during a time of turmoil. Scowling, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that his father had been just such a man. Had he still been alive, Rendon Howe would have likely funded the smugglers activities instead of trying to stop them.

As they reached the last set of rooms he noticed a dramatic change in the atmosphere. The air was heavier here; the combination of mold and brine so potent that he could almost taste it. He could hear the singular sound of softly lapping waves as they entered an enormous natural cove that led out into the Waking Sea. The smugglers had built a dock and a staging area into the back wall of the cavern that was furnished with bookshelves lined with ledgers, a desk, and even a couple of comfortable-looking armchairs resting on a finely-woven rug. _Apparently the smuggling business is a lucrative one, _he mused.

Alyx ducked behind a large boulder, signaling for the others to follow. They were positioned on a ledge above the docking area that allowed them to easily observe without being seen. There were only two men below, but Nathaniel knew that this was bound to change once they made their presence known. Putting a finger to her lips in silent command, Alyx carefully unsheathed her weapons and handed them to Nathaniel.

"I'm going to scout ahead. Stay here until I give the signal," she whispered.

_"Unarmed? Are you mad?" _Nathaniel hissed back at her.

"They make too much noise without the proper sheaths," she replied, tapping the flat of one of the blades with an index finger before shrugging and shooting him a devilish smile. "Besides, I won't need them for these cretins."

Without another word she gracefully leapt over the boulder and promptly melted into the darkness.

"She _is_ completely out of her mind, yes? Just checking," Anders quipped from beside him.

"What, are ye a pair of nursemaids now? Sit back and take it easy. Things are just about to get good," Oghren replied.

"She's going to get herself killed, dwarf," Anders hissed, his usually good-natured features drawn in concern.

Oghren snorted in disbelief.

"Yer actin' like you've never seen her fight before. _Relax_, Falcon's got this."

The uneasy feeling in Nathaniel's stomach grew worse as he scanned the area in the hopes of spotting her lithe form and was surprised when even his experienced eyes couldn't pick her out of the shadows.

"Where'd she go?" Anders whispered as if reading his mind.

"She always goes up if it's an option," Oghren replied, jabbing his thumb towards the ceiling. "Says no one ever looks over their heads."

Sure enough, Nathaniel spotted her flitting through the rafters above the staging area as nimble as an acrobat. She crept closer and closer to the two smugglers until she was practically right over their heads, but neither of the men seemed to notice anything amiss. His heart began to race as she swung down from her hiding place and dropped to the ground behind them, quiet as a cat.

"Hello," she cooed, a wide, wicked grin spreading across her face as she straightened to her full height.

Both men snapped their heads around at the sound of her voice, but that was as far as they got. Alyx's hands shot out in several swift, inscrutable movements before she reached up and slammed their heads together with an audible _crack_. Nathaniel stifled a wince as they fell to the ground at her feet.

"Goodbye," she murmured as she stepped over the now unconscious men.

"He he, that's my girl," Oghren said with a chuckle.

Distant yelling and footsteps could be heard as the rest of the smugglers finally took note of their presence. Oghren bellowed a war cry as he jumped down to join her, Anders following closely behind him. Nathaniel reached for his bow but was suddenly distracted by a movement out of the corner of his eye. An archer stood at the end of the ledge to his right, lining up a shot that was clearly intended for Alyx. He quickly pulled his dirk from his boot and hurled it at the archer. He watched as the dagger turned end over end through the air until it lodged in the man's throat with wicked accuracy, but not before the man was able to pull off his shot.

Nathaniel's heart stopped the moment he saw the arrow arching though the air, aimed directly for Alyx's chest. Time seemed to slow as pure terror set in. He wanted desperately to look away, but he couldn't tear his eyes from the scene as it played out before him. In a movement so quick he barely registered it Alyx shot her hand out and stopped the arrow mid-flight, just inches from its target. It quivered in her fist from the momentum before she snapped it in half and threw it to the ground.

From there time sped up again as ciaos ensued all around him. Nathaniel could feel himself go through the motions of drawing his bow and loosing arrows down upon the enemy, but his mind was detached from the actions. His fear steadily turned into anger as he watched Alyx fight with a preternatural grace that made her just as deadly with her hands as she was with a blade. It was as beautiful of a sight as it was frightening. He would have enjoyed it more had he not been watching her through a red haze of fury.

The smugglers fell with a frightening amount of ease, though he supposed they were hardly a challenge to any of them in comparison to the darkspawn. When the fighting was over and the last of the enemy had fallen, the cove grew eerily quiet, leaving Nathaniel with nothing but the anger pounding through his system. Straightening to his full height, he could feel every muscle in his body tighten as he jumped down to the landing below and strode with intent towards his quarry.

He could hear Anders fussing over Alyx as he frantically ran his hands over her in the attempt to discern any unseen injuries.

"Cut it out, I'm fine!" she snapped peevishly as she swatted his hands away.

Nathaniel almost smiled at that. Almost.

"What the bloody _hell _were you thinking?" he spat as he closed the distance between them.

"I suggest you back off, _Howe_," she replied in dangerously soft tones.

Nathaniel let out a low, harsh laugh.

"No, I don't think so. Not this time, _Commander_," he growled as he took another step closer so that her face was within inches of his own. Her eyes widened infinitesimally at the close proximity and the obvious anger snapping within his own steely gaze. "Just what did you think you were doing going into a hostile situation alone and unarmed? Are you _completely_ insane or do you just have a death wish?"

"I knew what I was doing," she snapped back in precise, clipped tones.

"Bull shit! You could've been killed…Hell, you very nearly _were_ killed."

"And yet I wasn't, so the point is moot."

"I had to watch an arrow come within a hairsbreadth of being lodged through your heart and you want to argue semantics?" he yelled in disbelief.

"He's right, Falcon," Anders interjected gravely. "Had you taken that arrow it would have instantly killed you. I am a damn fine healer, but not even _I_ can bring someone back from the dead."

"Et tu, Anders?" she asked as she turned her angry glare at the mage.

"You took an unnecessary risk going after those men on your own. Why would you _do_ that? Why even bother making us Wardens at all if you won't trust us enough to have us at your back?" Anders said in even, angry tones.

Alyx's face drained of all its color and then flushed a brilliant red, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find the correct words.

"I—"

"Don't bloody bother! There is _no_ excuse you could give…_none_…that could make me believe you should've taken such a risk," Nathaniel interrupted as his temper flared to the breaking point. "There are _four_ of us here and yet you take your life into your own hands, _and for what_? So that you can prove something to us? To yourself? Either way, it was reckless and completely irresponsible, and possibly one of the most selfish things you have ever done!"

His last words echoed off the cavernous walls of the cove, sounding harsh in the resulting silence after his diatribe. Alyx had gone completely still, her fists clenched tightly at her sides and her jaw jutting out at a stubborn angle as he stood there and bellowed at her like an ill-mannered peasant. Nathaniel knew he had gone too far when he saw the sheen of unshed tears gather in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to the ground at his feet.

_Shit. Oh, shit! Please don't do that! _He silently begged her, panic setting in as he watched her struggle for composure.

"Commander—Alyx," he began, unsure of what to say but wanting to make things right. What he really wanted to do was grab her and give her a good, hard shake for scaring him so badly, but instead he took both her hands in his. When she didn't even look up he dropped to his knees and looked up into her face.

"Look at me, Lex," he said hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. "I know we haven't made it easy on you, but we can't go on like this. We have to be able to trust each other if we're to battle the darkspawn and survive. I swear to you on my family's name that I am loyal to you and to the Order, that I will endeavor to serve and protect all Wardens, and that I will never intentionally betray your trust under the penalty of death. This I pledge to you, Commander. My life is yours."

Her eyes went wide at his last words, jaw dropping open as he stared into their blue depths. His eyes silently begged her to hear the sincerity in them. Perhaps he had gone a little overboard, but the color creeping back into her face spoke volumes. He had said the right thing.

"I, too, swear my fealty, Commander…though of course I don't have a family name to speak of…or really anything else to offer you save my life, but I _do_ wholeheartedly give it to you in service…or die a terrible and bloody death. You could even throw me to the templars if you like," Anders offered, his normal goofy grin once again plastered on his face.

Nathaniel tried not to scowl too much as the mage raised her hand to his lips, especially when he saw him turn it over to place a kiss in the center of her palm instead of the traditional salute. He also tried not to think too hard about the blush that crept into her cheeks as his lips lingered longer then was strictly proper.

"I—don't know what to say," Alyx breathed as she looked at all of them in turn.

"You needn't say anything," Anders replied. "We're a team, Falcon. This just makes it official."

"Enough with this mush-ball nonsense. You three are gonna' make me puke," Oghren huffed as he walked up to Alyx and slapped her on the back. "Ye kicked ass today, kid. When ye get it in yer head to cause some damage, you really tear it up. Haven't seen ye fight like that since the blight. Good on ye, Falc."

"Uh—thanks, I guess," she replied with an amused smile.

"I assume ye know I'm good fer it without spewin' a bunch of pretty words?" he continued, looking less than comfortable.

"Of course, Oghren," she replied with a laugh that broke the last of the tension.

"Good. Can we go back to the inn now? I need a drink after dealin' with all this sexual tension."

Nathaniel nearly choked as he tried desperately not to die in embarrassment and Anders hard turned three shades of red. Alyx simply laughed, apparently deciding that Oghren's comment was nothing more than a joke.

"We'll go back just as soon as I talk to Constable Aidan. He'll be delighted to know that his smuggling problem has been eradicated," she said once she calmed enough to speak.

"Falcon?" Anders called as they began the walk back to the surface.

"Hmm?"

"Just promise me one thing…never go charging into battle alone again. I mean, that arrow-catching trick was neat and all, but couldn't you have just side-stepped it or something?"

"Tell you what, Anders. The next time I intentionally jump in front of an arrow, I'll buy you a new set of robes."

"Ooh! Can I have that written into my contract?"

"You don't have a contract."

"Damn. Can I at least get it in writing then? Or maybe I should ask for something more elaborate. Robes are good and all, but it doesn't quite say 'Thanks for healing my mortal wound.'"

"Anders—"

"I'm thinking something big and shiny, or Ooh! How about a bottle of the finest Antivan brandy…appropriately aged of course…or maybe a cat trained to attack darkspawn on sight. I've always like cats, they're far less smelly than dogs…no offense to Hector of course. Or _maybe_ a statue of me erected right next to that one of Andraste in the Vigil's courtyard…"

"_Anders!" _

"Too much?"

Alyx sighed heavily, shaking her head in bewilderment.

"I should've let the damned smugglers have me," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

Constable Aidan was both grateful and relieved to hear that the smugglers had been taken care of and was adamant on rewarding them despite Alyx's insistence that she was happy as long as the goods were distributed to the needy. Nathaniel was impressed with her generosity though he was hardly surprised any longer. She had proven time and again that she had a compassionate nature.

Things seemed to go back to normal as they walked back into the city…or at least as normal as their small group ever was. It was as if the confrontation in the cove had lifted all of the tension that had been building over the past few days. Alyx was still as reserved as ever, but there was a new sense of light-heartedness about her that hadn't been there before.

He should have known that it wouldn't last.

"Message for you, Commander," the innkeeper called as they walked back inside the musty taproom at the _Crown and Lion_. "Gent said it was important you get it as soon as you returned."

Alyx thanked the man as she took the thick vellum envelope and used her dagger to slit it open.

"Bad news?" Anders asked as her face crumpled into a frown.

"Yes—no, _damn it_, can't they get along without me for more than a few days at a time?" she huffed in consternation.

"What is it?" Nathaniel asked.

She handed him the letter, poking the page with her index finger to emphasize her irritation.

"You see this? _This_ right here is the very reason I thought we had a Seneschal in the first place! How are we ever going to get anything done if I'm to be summoned back at a whim? Do they think the darkspawn are going to kill _themselves_?"

"Wouldn't it be nice if they did?" Anders mused. "Then again, we'd be out of a job."

"Do you think the matter is as dire as Varel suggests?" Nathaniel asked as he passed the letter to Oghren.

The dwarf stared at it a long moment and then guffawed in disbelief before handing it to Anders.

"Not bloody likely," Alyx said with an indelicate snort, "But I suppose it's best to return just in case. I hope for his sake that it's as important as he says."

"So…we're headed back to the Vigil?" Anders asked.

"Back to the Vigil," she confirmed with a nod.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Brain Stew" by Green Day, "The Tuskan Camp and the Homestead" by John Williams (Attack of the Clones OST); "The Sheriff and His Witch" by Michael Kamen (Robin Hood Prince of Thieves OST); "I have Everything I Need" by Ramin Djawadi (Clash of the Titans OST)_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 - Shadow and Strength**

"Can you three be ready to leave within the hour?" Alyx said as she pocketed Varel's missive. "There should be enough daylight left to get a good head start back to the Vigil."

"Not to stir the pot, but wouldn't it be wiser to leave first thing in the morning?" Anders replied timidly, eyes pleading her to change her mind.

Alyx sighed. It seemed that no matter what she did, her men would insist on questioning her.

"The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back on the road…and no amount of puppy dog eyes will make me change my mind, Anders," she said, shooting him a loaded look.

"Aww, does the man-skirt not want to sleep on the cold, hard ground?" Oghren teased, playfully punching Anders in the arm.

"I _hate _camping," Anders grumbled under his breath as he shot Oghren a murderous glare.

"Enough commentary from the peanut gallery. Go and pack your things and meet me outside. _One hour, _gentleman."

Alyx settled their tab with the innkeeper (adding quite the hefty tip in repayment for breaking the poor man's mirror) and packed her own meager belongings, as well as the supplies they had purchased in the marketplace their first day in the city. Though she had more to accomplish than all three of her companions put together, she was still ready and saddled before any of them made an appearance.

_They're worse than a gaggle of noblewomen, _she thought, rolling her eyes as Anders and Oghren grumbled their way across the courtyard. Nathaniel had appeared first and had enough common sense to keep his comments to himself as he swung atop Sirocco's back. Besides the occasional show of temper, she realized that he was the most-level-headed of her companions, and she thanked the Maker that at least one of them was.

The journey back to the keep proved to be uneventful, or at least from a tactical standpoint (Oghren's falling out of the saddle…_again_…was more of a testament to his poor equestrian skills than an actual incident). At the end of the first day as they set up camp for the night Alyx thought of how relaxed the trip had been in comparison to their ride _into_ the city. It was amazing how different things were now that the air had been cleared of the major misgivings that had kept them from really trusting each other. She couldn't exactly say that they were one big happy family, but things had certainly improved. At the very least it had lightened her mind and heart to know that Anders and Nathaniel were truly invested in the Wardens and in her as their leader. Oghren had been a given.

Camp certainly had a more comfortable feel now that the tension had lifted. Nathaniel had surprised her by offering to sharpen her blades with the whetstone she had gifted him a couple of days ago, and was currently bent over the project, brow furrowed in concentration. Oghren had pulled out his pipe and was quietly puffing away as he took an occasional swig from his wineskin, and Anders was…well, being Anders.

"Falcon, I've been meaning to ask you…how did you learn your combat skills?" Anders asked her as he plopped down beside her next to the fire. "I've never seen anything like it before, especially your hand-to-hand technique. It's _fantastic_."

"Now _that_ is a very long story," Alyx replied. "And not quite as interesting as you might think."

"Ooh, now you _have_ to share! Inquiring minds want to know," Anders cooed as he waggled his eyebrows and cupped his chin in one hand as he leaned forward in anticipation. She glanced at the others and noticed that they, too, were gazing at her in interest. Alyx took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as she tried to think of where to start.

"I started sparring with my brother from an early age, and then with the men in my Father's service when I was deemed old enough to do so. My true instruction, however, didn't begin until the winter of my eighteenth year. The snows had come early, and with a force unlike any we had seen before or since. Consequently many travelers were compelled to winter at Highever for the duration. Amongst these was a kindly old man who introduced himself as Michiaki, though I was never quite sure if this was his surname or his given name. He said he was from Ravain, and although he had the bronzed skin to back up his claim, he neither spoke nor dressed like anyone I have ever met from that land…"

She distinctly remembered Michiaki's features, though it had been years since the last time she'd seen him. He'd been a small man with a clean-shaven head and fuzzy, caterpillar eyebrows. He had the largest, kindest, puppy-dog eyes she'd ever seen that sparkled with mischief as often as they snapped with quick intelligence and purpose. His voice was surprisingly deep and husky, and pleasant to listen to though she didn't always understand the words.

"…I, being young and impressionable, was curious about the funny little man with the strange mannerisms, so foreign from everything I had ever known. When he walked, he never made so much as a sound, and his eyes were forever sparkling with humor, as if he was laughing at a joke that only he was privy to. Yet what fascinated me the most about him was the aura of utter calm that enveloped him like a shroud. We struck up a friendship, as odd as that may sound, and he would often sit and talk with me by the fire when the weather proved too harsh for training. One day, after watching me spar with my brother, he approached me with an intriguing proposition…"

Alyx's eyes clouded over as the memories swirled through her thoughts, the images just as clear as if it had only happened yesterday. She could almost feel the frozen ground beneath her feet as she and Fergus circled each other, blades flashing in the dim winter light. They had shed their heavy, fur-lined coats despite the sharp bite of the cold, crisp air; their breaths coming out in puffs like thin wisps of smoke. She wielded a sword and a shield, weapons chosen for her by her Father as a condition of her swordplay (though how this was safer than any other form of battle was beyond her).

Michiaki watched in silence as she and Fergus sparred. Though she was able to get a couple of good hits in, the shield was too heavy and cumbersome for her small frame, weighing her down more than protecting her as it should. Fergus easily and laughingly defeated her, as he always did in those days. When he was too cold to gloat any longer, he headed back inside leaving Alyx alone in the middle of the courtyard. Only then did Michiaki approach her.

"_You have great potential, ayasha, but it cannot be unleashed with such unwieldy tools," _Michiaki said as he knocked a fist against her shield with a sharp clang._ "These are better suited for burly men in plate armor, not for a woman-child barely taller than her opponent's blade." _

"What does 'ayasha' mean?" Anders interrupted.

"Ayasha, he told me, means 'little one' in his tongue, which was something of joke as he was no bigger than I. At any rate, he revealed to me that he was once a member of an elite order of warriors revered by his people for their prowess. There was a time that their skills were passed down from generation to generation as a sacred and treasured right, but had since become a dying art form. The last of his brothers had all but been wiped out by those who feared and resented their power."

"So it was _he_ that trained you?" Anders interrupted once again, surprise evident in his voice.

"Am I telling this story or are you?" she asked in amusement, laughing as his face colored in embarrassment. "To answer your question, yes, it was he, but there was so much more to it than that. He offered to teach me these skills, believing that his arrival at Highever was preordained. He said I had a great destiny but not the proper direction; that the knowledge he would grant me would only serve to help me on my path. How did he put it? Ah, yes. He said I was like the night orchid that blooms for all to see, but only releases its rich scent under the cover of darkness. _Don't_ give me that look, Anders. It does _not_ mean what you think it means! Anyway, he had a lot of funny sayings like that. The man couldn't answer a question directly to save his life."

She hadn't agreed to his offer, not right away at least. She remembered being overwhelmed and, admittedly, a bit frightened of his supposition of her future. She didn't want to have a great destiny. In tales of old, such men and women invariably led tragic lives and died young. All she had ever wanted was to live and die in Highever with her family surrounding her.

_"You must have mistaken me for someone else. Beyond my family's name and title, I am just…me. Nothing special," she told him. _

_"You cannot run from your fate. You must accept it, ayasha, like it or not. Come to me when your decision is made." _

She spent the rest of that day and most of the night weighing his words with the intensity that she brought with everything she did. As she watched the sky change colors with the rising sun, she came to a decision. Seeking him out, she knew he would be awake, though it was early yet. She found him meditating in the early morning light, seemingly unfazed by the freezing cold of the day. Approaching him silently, she kneeled beside him.

_"Teach me," she said in a low-pitched voice, somehow knowing he would understand the deeper meaning behind the simple words._

"Michiaki believed that the mind had to be trained before the body, so in order to achieve the proper focus he taught me how to meditate. He said that it would calm my mind and open my senses, and with time and experience I would be able to commune with others simply by using the power of my mind; possibly even see glimpses of the future if I had the patience and the aptitude."

"_Really?_ Can you _do_ that?" Anders gasped.

"No, but honestly I was far too hyper in my youth to sit still for more than an hour at a time, to Michiaki's consternation. Needless to say, we moved on quickly. He soon started me with simple hand-to-hand techniques—"

_"Your body is a weapon, as deadly as any blade. No! Like this—you rely too much on your strength, like a man. Imagine that you are a sieve…let the movements flow through you like water…now, again!"_

"—And then had me perform fetes of acrobatics that were as complex as they were grueling. I was a little worried at first that he planned on sell me down the river to a troop of traveling tumblers, but he explained that it would improve my stamina, agility and flexibility as well as sharpen my focus and accelerate my reflexes—"

_Michiaki had insisted they train atop some wooden scaffolding set up near the curtain wall. Before she could stop herself, she looked over the edge to the courtyard below, only to feel dizzy and ill. It was a long way down if she fell._

_"Are you afraid?" _

_"Yes."_

_"Good. You must confront your fear. Let it become one with you. Only then will you conquer it." _

"—He showed me how to use theatricality and deception to trick the mind and to instill fear in the mind of my enemies—"

_"Some men know how to melt into shadows. I can show you how to appear and disappear as if out of thin air. If you wished to, you could become truly invisible…" _

"—Which is a neat party trick, but impractical when it comes to the darkspawn."

"Because they can sense us?" Nathaniel offered, startling her out of her reverie. She had forgotten he had even been listening.

"Precisely," she replied with a nod of approval. "It has its uses, however. Men like those we faced today are always susceptible to such methods."

As was her brother. She would never forget Fergus's face the first time she beat him in single combat. She insisted on using two blades instead of the sword and shield, so naturally he had accused her of cheating when she easily disarmed him and knocked him flat on his back. It had also been the first time her Father had taken her fighting skills seriously, and it was all due to Michiaki's training.

"Ultimately, he combined these techniques and built on them as I improved in skill, eventually adding weapons and opponents to our practices. Michiaki was always pushing the limits of my abilities, challenging me in ways that I never thought possible. He taught me how to use my size and gender as a tool and not an obstacle to overcome. He, being small himself, was well aware of the advantage. I was only able to beat him once in a match, and it was the last day of my training. He simply smiled and said that he was no longer needed, and then the next day he was gone."

"Did you ever see him again?" Nathaniel asked.

"No," she replied cautiously, and after a moment of hesitation.

"So…that's it?" Anders asked when she was done.

"Yes."

"Wow…you were right. That was not _nearly_ as interesting as I thought it would be."

"Hey! You were the one who asked!" she exclaimed in mock anger as she playfully swatted at him.

"I yield! I yield! Mercy Commander!" he cried through fits of laughter.

Oghren snorted at their behavior, the only sign he had shown all night that he had been listening at all, but Alyx didn't care. It had felt good to share a part of her life that few had ever known existed.

"Can you teach me, Commander?" Nathaniel asked thoughtfully after they had grown quiet again.

"You want to learn…_from me_?" she asked in astonishment.

"Is that really so surprising? I am rogue, the same as you. Surely it would not be that much of a stretch."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt. Very well, but it may have to wait until things have calmed down a bit."

"Yes, of course," he said as he stood and crossed to her side of the fire. "Here are your blades, good as new. If you like, I can take first watch."

"Uh, thanks. That would great," she replied, once again surprised at his offer. "And thanks for the blades."

"You're most welcome," he murmured, one side of his mouth twitching up in a half-smile.

She blinked, feeling a hint of déjà-vu as she stared at his expression. There was just a trace of a dimple in his cheek, a feature she had adored in the boy she once knew. Alyx had to remind herself that he was not that boy any longer, and that she hardly knew anything of the man. His attitude had certainly improved since that first night yet she still didn't know what to make of him. Tonight, however, was not the time or the place to figure him out.

Standing, she said her good nights and walked back to her tent. She quickly undressed and climbed into her bedroll, praying for sleep to come swiftly. Unfortunately her mind was too full of memories to allow it; memories that she had all but forgotten until this night. As she laid there staring up at the ceiling of her tent, she allowed herself to sift through the images floating through her mind. She hadn't been totally honest with Nathaniel earlier, when he asked if she had ever seen Michiaki again after he left Highever. The truth was that she was unsure if she had actually _seen_ him, or if he had simply been a vision conjured by a grief-stricken mind.

The day of Alistair's funeral, Sten had agreed to carry her into the chantry so she could say a final farewell to her beloved in private. She had been too weak after the battle to walk on her own. It would have been dark as night in the vast chamber if it weren't for the hundreds of tiny votive candles that illuminated the shrine on which Alistair was resting. Sten had left her kneeling at the foot of the altar, promising to return for her before they came to take his body away.

Alyx drunk in the familiar features, cast in flickering shadows sprung from the weak light. They had dressed him in the golden armor that had once belonged to Cailan, his motionless hands folded over Duncan's shield. He looked peaceful, as if he were only sleeping. She wanted to cry, to give in to the pain, but her body refused her even this.

It was there, as she was dying from the inside out, that she felt the presence of her old tutor. She knew it was him even before she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"I failed you," she whispered, her words directed at Michiaki though her eyes were trained on Alistair's face.

"You did what you set out to accomplish," he replied after a short pause. "The blight has been eliminated, Fereldan safe once again."

"Because of _him_!" she hissed, her head snapping around to glare at him. "I did not kill the archdemon, _he did_. He made the sacrifice that should have been mine to make, and now he is dead and I have nothing left."

"You are wrong, ayasha. His story was meant to end here, yours is not. Yours is only beginning."

She looked back at Alistair's still form, her mouth tightening in anger as she tried to control her anguish. When she did not speak, he continued.

"Grieve, my child, but do not let it poison you. Learn from it, become stronger from your pain. When the time is right…and it will come though you may not believe it…take back your life. Only then will you regain the path that was put before you. "

And then he was gone. She often wondered if she had really seen him, but in the end it hardly mattered. It wasn't until more than a year later, on the day that she began her training again, that Alyx had an epiphany.

She woke that morning with a sudden impulse to make a change. She jumped out of her bed and threw open the doors to her armoire, knowing without looking exactly where the item she needed was within the shadowy depths. Retrieving the object in question, Alyx pulled her heavy winter cloak on over her meager nightgown. The castle was quiet this early in the morning, making it easy for her to slip out of her rooms and up to the roof without being noticed.

Standing at the highest point of Highever Castle, she looked out over the wintry landscape. It was a day much like many she had spent here with Michiaki in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Looking down to the courtyard below, she realized he had been right in one thing—the terror she had once felt when at such dizzying heights no longer existed. She was standing as close to the edge as she possibly could without climbing atop the stone wall, and yet she wasn't feeling the slightest bit of panic. She had conquered her fear.

Alyx considered Michiaki's last words to her in the chantry, as well as the strange turn her life had taken over the past few years. Lady Alyxandria Cousland had died that night long ago with her parents, and Warden Alyx had died with her lover atop Fort Drakon. Falcon was all that remained. Yet Michiaki had been right. She _did_ have something worth living for, only she hadn't known it at the time.

She glanced down at the object lying in the palm of her hand; a delicate, withered rose that had once been a beautiful crimson color, but was now closer to black. Though it had been ages since Alistair had given it to her, it still held its shape and beauty. Her mouth set in a hard line she crushed the bloom within her fist. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then opened her hand to allow the ruined petals to blow away in the wind.

It was in that moment that she made a pact with herself. She would not be weak. She would reclaim her life and mold it into something different…something stronger. She would train harder than she ever did before, she would become the Warden she should have been from the beginning, and she would never again let herself be consumed by the artifice of love.

* * *

***Author's Note: **_I am a big believer in having character names that have some depth of meaning to them, so I took my time about choosing the name of the original character introduced in this chapter. Michiaki is a Japanese name which (according to the name registry) means "path, road, or lane" which I felt was quite appropriate for his character. Ayasha, which I used as a sort of pet-name here, is Cheyenne for "little one." _**Muse Tunes: **_"The Kingsroad" by Ramin Djawadi; "Rise to Me" by The Decemberists; (Game of Thrones OST);__"Eptesicus"__ and __"Barbastella" both from the Batman Begins OST by Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 – The Depths of Depravity**

As the others stood one after another and shuffled to their tents with mumbled good nights, Nathaniel sighed with relief. First watch had never been so welcome as it was this night. He stood and stretched, taking in the beauty of the star-strewn sky and the soft crackling of the fire. It was a perfect setting for a man to be alone with his thoughts, something he sorely needed at the moment.

Staring into the fire, he recalled the events of the day and shook his head in mild amusement. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such a wide range of emotions, and all in the matter of hours. Yet as they had sat together after their evening meal, Nathaniel realized that he hadn't felt this relaxed in a very long time.

He had offered to sharpen Alyx's blades with the whetstone she had given him a couple of days ago. She was surprised, but readily agreed when he told her he needed something to do with his hands or go crazy. What he _hadn't_ told her was precisely _what_ was driving him crazy.

Anders had taken it upon himself to flirt with her at every given opportunity, which wouldn't have been quite so annoying if she had ignored him. Instead she seemed to enjoy his company and responded to his glib comments far too often for Nathaniel's comfort. Yet the menial chore he had tasked himself with did wonders for his equilibrium. The more he sharpened, the less he wanted to use the mage for target practice. Soon their murmuring voices actually began to take on a soothing cadence along with the familiar scent of Oghren' pipe.

His ears had perked the moment she began to tell them of her training, and he soon found himself engrossed in the story and in the soft rhythm of her voice. She was an excellent story teller, and though he doubted she realized it, her face was lit with the emotions that were so evident in her voice. He found himself intrigued by the methods Michiaki so meticulously instilled in her, and before he fully comprehended what he was doing, he was asking her to train him in turn.

Every time Anders butted into her story, Nathaniel had to bite back a scathing retort. He had ever considered himself a level-headed man but the mage was proving him wrong. Then again, perhaps it wasn't him at all but the woman sitting beside him. Alyx continued to puzzle him, as did his insatiable curiosity when it came to her. He was man enough to admit his attraction. She was a beautiful woman, blessed with incredible intelligence and skill. He would have to be dead or a eunuch _not_ to notice her. Surely that was all there was to it…right? After all, they had only just begun to get to know each other.

After a time, Nathaniel collected his pouch and pulled free the leather-bound volume he had put off reading since Alyx had given it to him.

His Father's journal.

With a deep breath he cracked open the tome and ran a shaky finger over the worn, yellowed pages within. His Father's thoughts were right there in front of him, just waiting to be read, but would he truly find the answers he wanted there? Or would he be better off never knowing the inner workings of Rendon Howe's mind? There was only one way to find out.

He began to read, surprised at first at how far back the journal begun, but then soon realized that its contents were mostly a collection of random thoughts instead of the full entries he initially expected. There was one disturbing fact that made itself clear within moments of first opening the tome…his Father had been planning Bryce Cousland's death for years. Every entry that included the Cousland name dripped with the vitriol his father concealed in person. All the while he formed his plans, step by excruciating step. He'd convinced himself into believing that Highever had been stolen from the Howe's in the first place, and that taking it back from the Couslands was merely an act of justice. It was strange to think what lengths a man like his father would go to gain the power he thought he was owed, and it was painfully obvious that he believed he deserved every bit of his ill-wrought winnings.

Nathaniel froze when he read the first entry that mentioned his own name, and then felt ill as the words began to sink in. He didn't need to check the date to know when it was written:

**_I have finally received confirmation of the intelligence I received last month from my scout in the Free Marches. Rockfort is dead, and my ungrateful son is responsible. I shouldn't be surprised. Nathaniel has always been a disappointment, from the day he slipped from between the thighs of the milksop bitch I'm unfortunate enough to call wife. If it weren't for the boy's physical attributes I would think that the woman bred him off of another. I almost wish she had, perhaps then I would have an excuse to discard her like I should have done years ago. _**

**_I will never understand the boy. He has always been too independent, too willful for his own good. When he was old enough to learn a weapon I bade him study the sword, and instead he chooses the bow. A coward's weapon if you ask me. What's the point if you cannot feel your enemy's flesh tear asunder beneath your own two hands and see the life slip from his eyes? I had hoped that Rockfort would make a man of him, but now I see it will never come to pass. _**

_**Nathaniel has lost me my foreign contacts as well as a most lucrative business venture, an unforgivable misstep that will cost him his inheritance. He is no Howe and no longer any son of mine. Tomas at least shows some promise and is far easier to mold in whatever fashion I choose. I have told my family and the staff to never again mention Nathaniel's name in my presence and have asked my Seneschal to strike his name from my will. Tomas will inherit everything. If Nathaniel ever again steps foot on Fereldan land, he will pay dearly for his transgressions.** _

He had known, of course, that he'd been disinherited. Hadn't Delilah told him as much? Yet never in his wildest dreams would he have believed that his Father had hated him so much. It didn't jibe with the memories he had of the man who patiently showed him how to ride his first horse, or who introduced him to visiting nobles with the pride of a loving patriarch. Either something had vastly changed his opinion of his son or he had the skills of deception that rivaled a master bard's. Nathaniel wanted to tear the journal to pieces, to forget that Rendon Howe ever existed, but instead he forced himself to continue.

He hadn't truly expected to be mentioned again, not after what he just read. Needless to say it was surprising to find yet another entry, though this one had been written a couple of years after the first:

**_Bryce asked after Nathaniel again. Had it been anyone else I would have put them in their place but such an act would only set me back. Apparently now that his daughter is nearing a marriageable age he seeks a match that would suit her fickle whims. The girl shows no interest in the men at court, though I can hardly understand her popularity to that end. She reminds me of a colt, all arms and legs and eyes far too large for her tiny face, but she has practically every youth in Fereldan eating out of the palm of her hand, including my Tomas. _**

**_Bryce coddles her too much if you ask me. Alyxandria has grown far too wild and headstrong for her own good, but Cousland refuses to rein her in. He encourages her even by allowing her to speak her mind and to practice swordplay as if she were a boy. Women are meant to be meek and subservient and above all, silent. Thank the Maker Maric died before he and Bryce finalized a match with Cailan. It makes me ill to think of a Cousland on the throne. _**

**_At any rate, Bryce believes Nathaniel will make a fine match for her. He spouted some drivel about what a bright lad he is, and how he is the only noble-born son that she has ever shown any interest in. I had to bite my tongue in order to keep from saying something irreparable. Instead I told him we should not make plans until the boy returns from the Free Marches, as her opinion of him may have changed over the years. Bryce bought it lock, stock and barrel, as the peasants say. _**

**_It has occurred to me, however, that I should fabricate some subtle little rumors to ruin her chances of a match. Far easier to put my plans into motion if she remains in Highever with her family instead of Maker knows where with an overprotective husband in tow. My man tells me she's been spending quite a bit of time with that red-headed lout, Gilmore. What a shame it would be if that little tidbit makes the circulations…_**

This was by far a more entertaining entry then the last one had been, though he had to admit the last bit had been disconcerting. He was surprised that Bryce Cousland had thought enough of him to consider him as a match for his daughter. Alyx had been his pride and joy. He would not have given her up to just anyone. Cailan would certainly have made sense, but he…an odd pressure began to build within his chest as he imagined Alyx as his wife. He quickly turned his attentions back to the journal before he could consider the sensation further.

As he read Nathaniel noticed that the entries grew more and more disturbing until they were little more than the ravings of a madman. His hair stood on end when he reached the entry just before the raid on Highever:

**_My plans have come to a head at last. After years of careful planning, I know there will never be a more fortuitous moment than this. The Cousland name will forever be wiped from the face of Thedas and Highever shall be mine…as it should be. Bryce has sent his eldest ahead to Ostagar with his men, leaving a handful of soldiers to guard the castle. I told him my men were delayed but they are even now lying in wait, just beyond the line of view. Those that I have with me will take care of the family whilst the others attack the gates, and Bryce…Bryce I shall take care of myself. _**

**_I initially ordered my men to leave no witnesses, but since then I have change my plans. I have asked them to bring the Cousland girl to me alive. After our interview in the great hall I can now see why Tomas pants after her like a mabari in heat. She has turned into a fiery woman with a young, supple body that would make any sane man sit up and take notice. I admit I was shocked at the strength of my lust upon seeing her, particularly as it grew in proportion at her blatant distaste and willfulness. I shall enjoy breaking her before I send her into the Fade with the rest of her misbegotten family._**

Nathaniel saw red. He knew with a frightening certainty if his Father was still alive, he would kill the bastard himself…with his bare hands no less. His fingers tightened over the fragile pages as he tried not to be physically ill at the unbidden images that flashed through his head. When Delilah had told him of their sire's deeds he'd resigned himself to accepting his father's death in the face of the crimes he committed. For the first time since then, Nathaniel was _glad_ that Alyx had killed him…gleefully, maddeningly overjoyed in fact.

Looking down at the tome in disgust, Nathaniel fought the urge to throw it into the flames. He didn't want to read anymore. No more proof was necessary to convince him that Rendon Howe had been the worst sort of villain, but he forced himself to continue on.

His Father had been furious when he found out that Alyx not only survived Highever but Ostagar as well. His apparent desire fell by the wayside in lieu of his obsession with tracking and disposing of her, though his words made it clear that he viewed her as a loose end and not as a threat. He had even sent an assassin after her, but obviously that had not gone as planned or she wouldn't be sleeping a stone's throw away from where Nathaniel was presently sitting. His Father's obsession with her was only seconded by his lust for power. It was disgusting, the depths of depravity laid out before him in such vivid detail.

A soft noise nearby nearly made him jump out of his skin, but then he noticed that it was only Alyx quietly emerging from her tent. Her hair was down and sleep rumpled as well as the blanket that was pulled tight around her small frame. Underneath, she wore nothing but a simple, cream-colored shift that had slipped down on one side, revealing the pale skin of her shoulder beneath. His entire body stiffened as he imagined what it would be like to brush his lips against that creamy expanse of skin, to peal the light fabric away inch by inch to reveal what lay beneath…shaking his head, he forcibly stopped himself from continuing his current train of thought. He placed the journal over the evidence of his musings, inwardly scolding his overactive libido. If this was the way he was going to react every time he saw her in anything other than bloodstained armor he was in a lot of trouble.

Taking a deep breath he smiled at her and opened his mouth to offer a friendly greeting, but then saw the expression on her face and froze. It was only a matter of looking into the haunted depths of her eyes to guess why she had stumbled from her tent at this time of the night.

"Nightmares?" he asked instead, startling her enough to make her jump.

Apparently she hadn't realized he was there, though he was sitting just a few feet away from where she was standing. A fleeting look of surprise crossed her features at his words but then she threw him a weak smile and nodded in affirmation.

"I guess you could say that," she replied as she sat across from him and hugged the blanket closer.

"I must admit, that wasn't something I expected of being a Warden…nor is it something I think I shall ever get used to," he continued conversationally.

"Just be glad you didn't join during a blight," she muttered, producing a look of confusion from him. "My dreams will always be worse than yours, though luckily the archdemon is no longer featured in them," she explained as she noticed the journal in his lap. "Partaking in some light reading?"

"Yes, well…" he began cautiously before a thought suddenly occurred to him."Lex, you…didn't read this…did you?"

Alyx sighed.

"I did, though I sometimes wish I hadn't. I was hoping to find something…anything really, to explain his actions, but of course I never did."

That was _not _the answer he was hoping to hear.

"It seems that I have more to apologize for than I originally thought," he murmured, shooting her a sympathetic look.

"Don't do that," she snapped, her eyes suddenly darkening with anger.

"Do what?" he asked, genuinely surprised at her reaction.

"Blame yourself for your Father's misdeeds. You have no reason to feel guilty for any of the vile things that was written in that journal."

"Perhaps I was not to blame, but had I been here…"

"Do you honestly think you could have stopped him?"

"I could have tried at least!" he growled, snapping the journal shut and tossing it aside. "I could have talked him out of it, maybe even warned your Father, or the king or…_something._"

"There was no changing his mind, Nate, and any man who stood in his way was quickly and brutally dispatched. After reading…_that_…can you honestly believe that he wouldn't have done the same to you?"

There was a long silence as they stared daggers at each other, but Nathaniel eventually sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"You're right. Of course you're right. It's just…hard to…digest."

Her eyes softened at his words, her hand reaching out to briefly squeeze his shoulder meaningfully.

"You are _not_ your Father, Nathaniel Howe. You're a good man."

"I'm not a good man," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "I've seen things, Lex…done things—"

"We have _all_ done things we're not proud of, Nate. So you have a past. We all do."

"Including the Grey Wardens?" he teased.

"_Especially_ the wardens," she replied, her eyes momentarily sparkling with humor before they turned serious again. "Most people believe us to be heroes. Knights in shining armor straight out of some romantic adventure tale, but the truth is far from what they think. The sort of person that has what it takes to be a warden usually comes from a sordid and often criminal past. Hell, the Commander before me was to be hung for murder when he was conscripted, and he wouldn't be the first. Truth is, as questionable as our pasts may be we're the ones that are willing to make the decisions that no one else wants to. Sometimes it may seem brutal, even heartless if you want to be dramatic, but we do what we must for the good of everyone…even if that means making sacrifices."

"I—understand," he replied hoarsely, unsure of what else to say.

"What's done is done, Nate. You cannot change the past, no matter how much you may wish to. I should know better than anyone how pointless it is to torture yourself over what-if's. Instead, make the most of the present. You have an opportunity to reclaim your family's good name. _Use it."_

He nodded as she stood to leave, but before she could walk away he gently grabbed her by the arm.

"Why did you recruit me?" he asked on impulse, immediately wanting to take the words back as they jumped from his lips.

"What?" she asked, obviously confused by his question.

"Why did you recruit me? After everything my Father did to you, to your family…not to mention that I came back to Amaranthine to kill you. Anyone else would've had my head on a platter."

"I—well, to be honest there were several reasons," she began as she sat back down. "The first was the most practical. I desperately needed new recruits and you were both skilled and, well, _there_. Secondly, I realized that were I to kill you, I would become the monster you already thought I was." She stopped and studied him, her cerulean eyes taking in his features with a deep intensity that sent chills up his spine. She leaned a little closer as she lowered her voice. "But mostly I thought if there was anything left of the boy you were in the man that was standing before me, then he…_you_ would be worth saving."

_Wow, _he thought, floored by her simple, heartfelt words.

"And—uh, what do you think now?" he asked, his throat hoarse with the countless emotions spiraling through him. "Was I worth saving, Commander?"

"Without question," she replied with a small smile as she stood and turned to walk back to her tent. She paused at the entrance and turned her head to look back at him over her shoulder, her eyes soft and radiant in the firelight. "Good night, Nate."

Nathaniel was speechless. He swallowed hard, only able to concentrate long enough to nod his response. It was in that moment he realized that this attraction he felt for her, the lust that had crept up on him and slowly took over his senses, had become ever so much more. Everything that had happened over the past few days had suddenly begun to make sense, culminating into a truth that he had refused, until then, to admit to himself.

He didn't just want her…he _cared_ for her.

Hope crept in as he remembered the way she had looked at him just before slipping back into her tent, but he trounced it just as quickly as it surfaced. He could not let himself hope. Not yet at any rate. With the ghosts of the past chasing them both and the darkspawn threat gaining momentum...not to mention the myriad of other problems that insisted on cropping up everywhere they turned...they could ill afford such distractions. He began a mental list of reasons why it was unlikely a relationship between the two of them would ever come to pass. The harder he thought about it, the longer the list, and slowly his hope dimmed to the point of nonexistence. If a time came that they were not utterly surrounded by death and destruction, then he would reevaluate his chances. Otherwise, he would just have to settle with _friendship_. He only wished the word didn't taste so bitter upon his tongue.

* * *

***Muse Tunes:**_"Photographs"__ and __"Kyra's Tape"__ by __James Newton Howard __(Sixth Sense OST); "Life On Earth" by Band of Horses; __"The Gift of a Thistle"__ by __James Horner __(Braveheart OST). _


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 - Raindrops on Roses**

Anders breathed a sigh of relief when they finally rode through the Vigil's gates. For all that he should be enjoying his newfound freedom, he positively _hated_ sleeping on the cold, hard ground. He had become far too accustomed to the trappings of luxuries the Tower offered, one of the sole concessions available to the mages confined in that horrible place.

_It's no wonder most of us are as soft as newborn kittens, _Anders thought with an inward snort.

Then of course, mages didn't _need_ to be strong, did they? They had other abilities to protect themselves, and most of them were far too used to using magic for even the simplest of tasks to bother with the physical. Indeed, most would hardly be able to function if their talents were suddenly stripped from them, a fact that made the templars all the more powerful in his mind.

Anders had come to the Tower later in life than most of the kids that were taken there, and so he had never allowed himself to go soft like so many of the others. He had been proud of his physical prowess…until his conscription that is. Even now his ass was numb from the long hours on horseback, and his entire body was sore from the uncomfortable sleeping situation while on the road. He shot an envious look at his companions, all of whom looked comfortable and relaxed despite the lack of creature comforts over the past couple of days. He also noted the quiet conversation Falcon and Nate were having and scowled as he remembered that their ease of travel was not the only reason he had to be jealous.

He didn't know what Nate had said to her in Amaranthine, but whatever it was had changed things between them. He was also certain that Howe finally admitted to himself that he wanted her, and was even now campaigning to win her right out from under his nose. He was determined not to let that happen. Not now when he had only just admitted his own feelings to himself.

He hadn't known what to say or how to act around her after he discovered his…attachment. Especially after Oghren's revelation of her past, and after he found her standing in the middle of her room clutching her wounded hand behind her back like a naughty child. That had been a shock. Anders had never been in love, and so could only guess at the depth of her pain, but to do something so downright stupid as to cause self-inflicted injury? _That_ he could never understand. Yet it had been two years since her lover died. Surly she should be over him by now? The whole situation was mind boggling. He only knew that he wanted to permanently wipe the haunted look from her eyes. He wanted to see the return of the woman Oghren had said she once was, and he desperately wanted to take her in his arms and never let go.

Anders had casually begun to flirt with her once they left the city, and even thought he had been making good progress until he noticed the burgeoning friendship between his two companions. The worst part of it was that he was actually beginning to like Howe now that he was on speaking terms with the rest of them. It was unfortunate that they wanted the same woman...though he had to admit that the man had good taste.

The cherry on top was that Howe had quite the unfair advantage. He was noble-born, the same as she, and had known the Commander since childhood (Anders asked him once what she was like as a child. His only answer—in typical Nathaniel fashion—was simply that she had been "annoying"). They were both rogues, so they could relate tactically in battle, and now it seemed they had a shared hatred of the late Arl. _That_ was something her certainly never expected. Not after Nate's past behavior.

While he was mulling all this over in his mind they had dismounted and walked their horses into the Vigil's well-appointed barn. Varel came out to greet them, swiftly pulling Falcon aside…no doubt to discuss the details of his summons. Anders expected the conversation to be a heated one, but neither of them raised their voices or showed any signs of irritation. He glanced over at them curiously from time to time as he helped the stable boy strip Reynolds of his tack. He affectionately patted the bay on his broad neck before joining Oghren and Nate by the open doors. Falcon wrapped up her conversation shortly thereafter and headed over to debrief them.

"It appears that I shall have to play Arlessa this afternoon," she told them with a wry grin. "The Senechal was unsure of how I wanted to handle court proceedings and didn't wish to make such a decision without my consent. Considering the nature of some of the claims, it is best that I am here."

"Do we need to be present, Commander?" Anders asked curiously.

"As this is not a Grey Warden matter it's unnecessary for you to be there. However, if you are interested you are more than welcome to attend. Otherwise, the day is yours. Just be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Anders silently groaned at these words. He had hoped that they would have more time before heading back out though he was hardly surprised she wanted to get back to it as soon as possible. If nothing else could be said about Falcon, she was certainly a woman who took her responsibilities seriously.

If only they could stay at a nice comfortable inn instead of camping in the middle of nowhere. And why was it that he always ended up choosing the most uncomfortable bit of earth to place his bedroll? He still had a particularly tender spot at the base of his spine where a rock had been prodding at him relentlessly last night. The only thing that would make camping palatable would be if he had a warm and willing woman wrapped within his arms. His pulse quickened as his imagination took over and the image of he and Falcon sharing a tent floated before his eyes.

He had an hour to burn before court began, so Anders decided that he would head up to his chambers. He felt an overwhelming sense of belonging as he walked through the Vigil's courtyard and was greeted warmly by all that past by him. He headed up the stairs and through the winding halls leading to what was once the family quarters. Falcon insisted that they each have a room in the larger, more comfortable area of the keep, away from the common guards and castle staff. He thought at first that she did this just to keep tabs on them, but perhaps she simply felt safer knowing that they were close at hand. Either way, it felt good to be home, even if it was to be a short-lived stay.

_Home. _

Anders stopped in his tracks as the word flitted through his thoughts. When had he begun to consider Vigil's Keep as home? It was a concept that was, up until this moment, as foreign to him as the words "love" and "family" had always been. The Tower had never been a home to him. They could dress it up all they like, but it would always remain a prison, and he was so far removed from his time before the Circle that he could barely remember what it had been like to live a normal life. Yet the Vigil was his home now, and as long as they didn't all get killed by the darkspawn, it would remain his home until his Calling came. Though he always shied away from anything so…permanent…it strangely felt _right_. He knew at once that he belonged here. This…being a Grey Warden…was what he was meant to do, meant to be. For once he could use the full spectrum of his abilities without fearing a reprisal, and though being a Grey Warden had some major disadvantages, it was somehow…fulfilling.

Entering his chambers, Anders was pleasantly surprised to see that a bath had been drawn for him. _I could certainly get used to this, _he thought as he shrugged out of his clothes and sank into the soapy water with a contented sigh. The hot water was utterly relaxing, smoothing out his sore muscles and jangled nerves. He released his hair from its leather thong and ran his fingers through the tangled, golden locks as he let his mind wander. It was the best bath he had in a very long time.

Once his fingers began to prune and the water grew cold, he dried off and changed into a fresh pair of robes. When he was content with his appearance, he left his chambers and nearly collided with Nathaniel in the hallway.

"Heading to the Great Hall as well?" Anders asked after they both mumbled their apologies.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm surprised you're attending. I wasn't aware that you were interested."

Anders shrugged.

"I'm merely curious, having never experienced such proceedings before. I assume you've attended court before your time in the Free Marches?"

"Yes, as well as the Landsmeet held in Denerim. As I was meant to inherit, my Father felt it was important that I learn the subtle nuances of Fereldan law and politics from an early age…then of course his idea of justice, as it turns out, was substantially different than my own," Nathaniel said with a scowl.

Anders arched his eyebrows in surprise. This was the first time Howe had ever volunteered such personal information. The man had certainly loosened up since his conscription, though Anders still felt he had a stick firmly shoved up his ass. He wondered if this was a product of stress or if it was just a part of his nature.

As they entered the Great Hall Anders could hear the murmuring of cultured voices and noticed the substantial crowd of people waiting for court to begin. Falcon was nowhere in sight. He and Nathaniel positioned themselves along the balcony that ran around the room in a half circle overlooking the hall below. It would give them an eagle's-eye view of the proceedings. Shortly, the Senechal positioned himself on the dais and raised a hand in a call for silence.

"All rise! The Warden-Commander and liege lord of all Amaranthine enters!" Varel called as Falcon entered the hall and stood beside him.

She was wearing ceremonial plate armor with a silver griffon emblazed on the chest plate that gleamed in the firelight. No doubt the Commander wished to remind her vassals exactly who and what she was. _Like they were likely to forget,_ Anders thought in wry amusement.

He watched intently as the session began, but soon grew bored. It seemed like the same complaints over and over again, only with different names and faces to go with the sob stories. He admired her fairness, even when he thought she might make an emotional choice over a rational one (and in some cases no one would have blamed her if she had). She kept her expression even, her voice and posture regal and powerful as she passed judgment on one case after another.

"She's pretty good at this," Anders murmured to Nathaniel.

"Good? She was _born_ to this," he replied though he kept his eyes on Falcon.

_Of course she was you bloody idiot, _Anders said to himself. He had forgotten once again that the Commander was noble-born, and not only that, but from one of the most prominent families in all of Fereldan. From what little she had told him of her Father, it would make sense that the Teryn would have her educated in such matters.

Captain Garavel suddenly entered the hall and bowed before Falcon and Varel before approaching them. He had a short, low-voiced conversation with both of them before positioning himself on Falcon's left. _Curious, _Anders thought, perking at the change of pace.

"Bring forth Ser Temmerly the Ox!" Varel's voice echoed through the hall.

Nathaniel stiffened beside Anders, his steely gaze hardening as a large man in soiled plate armor was escorted into the room.

"You know this guy?" Anders asked him.

"Unfortunately," Nathaniel replied in harsh, clipped tones. "He's a bully and an elitist. Just the sort of man my Father would have approved of."

"What are the charges?" Falcon asked as she eyed the man before her.

"Ser Temmerly stands accused of a murder most foul," Garavel practically growled as he narrowed his eyes at Ser Temmerly. "You and your men came upon Ser Tamara in the dead of the night and did cravenly ambush her."

_Ser Tamara, Ser Tamara…why does that name sound familiar? _Anders thought as he leaned forward to better hear the exchange below them.

"You dare too much, Captain Garavel. I am of noble blood, and will not submit to your accusations," the Ox sneered.

_Yes, but it's not him you need to convince jackass, _Anders thought with a snort.

"You are accused of murder, ser! My soldiers found you fleeing whilst Ser Tamara's blood was still hot!" Garavel cried, his face contorting with rage.

"There's a great deal of traffic on the roads these days. Not all of it's human. And it's so dangerous at night. We were merely in a hurry to reach a nice, safe place," Temmerly replied, his voice dripping with derision.

"You mock this court with your denials!" Garavel seethed, taking a step forward as his hand automatically went to the hilt of his long sword. Falcon stopped him with one hand, shooting Garavel a look that made him fall back into place.

"You have nothing, Captain. Release me, Commander. It's this common lout's word against mine," the Ox said in quiet triumph.

Falcon turned to consult Varel before she passed judgment, as she had for each of the other cases that had gone before this one.

"Ser Tamara was the one who warned us about a conspiracy against the Commander!" Anders hissed in surprise as he suddenly remembered the woman who approached him at the fealty ceremony looking for an audience with Falcon.

"What's this about a conspiracy?" Nathaniel asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Oh, that's right. You were skulking somewhere in a dark corner that night," Anders said with a wicked grin.

"I was _not_—just tell me what the hell you're talking about!" Nathaniel growled.

"Ser Tamara told Falcon and I that she had evidence that there was a plot forming against her. Letters, I believe. She didn't have them at the ceremony as she wasn't even sure Falcon would speak with her, but she agreed to bring them to the Vigil for Varel to review. I guess she was right on target, poor lass."

"So it appears," Nathaniel murmured, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Falcon doesn't seem very concerned about it, though," Anders added, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Be that as it may, I think we should keep our eyes and ears open for anything suspicious. No doubt her conspirators know what she is capable of. They are unlikely to use the usual methods to take her out."

"Usual? This sort of thing happens often?" Anders asked in surprise.

"It's politics, Anders. Many nobles feel they are above the law and wouldn't think twice about taking what they want…by any means."

"Like your Father?" Anders asked before he could think better of it.

"Yes. Like my Father," Nathaniel answered quietly.

"Ser Temmerly," Falcon called as she turned back to the man with a determined gleam in her eye. "Because of the seriousness of the charges brought against you this court has decided that a further investigation is called for. You are to be imprisoned until further notice."

"What is the meaning of this? You can't _do_ this! I am of noble blood. I refuse to be incarcerated like a…like a common criminal!" the Ox bellowed, his face turning red with rage as he struggled against the grasp of the guards who had taken his arms to lead him away.

"You forget who you speak to," Falcon pronounced in a clear, regal voice as her spine stiffened and her chin went up a notch.

Anders gasped at the effect the slight movement made. If he ever again forgot who and what she was, he only had to remember the way she looked in this moment. It was both beautiful and terrifying. Falcon stepped down from the dais and leaned down to say something in Ser Temmerly's ear. Anders strained to hear her words, but doubted anyone beyond the Ox could hear them. Whatever she said made the large man's face go completely white, his eyes dilating in fear before the guards ushered him away.

"Hmm, I wonder what she said to him," Anders speculated out loud.

"Hell, I could tell ye that, sparkle-fingers," Oghren said as he leaned on the banister next to Anders.

"When did you get here?" Anders asked in surprise.

"Jest came down a few minutes ago. Got turned around lookin' fer the john and ended out here instead," Oghren said with a shrug.

"And you heard what she said?"

"Nah, but I can lip read…what?" he replied nonchalantly as Anders and Nathaniel both stared at him in shock.

"That's a remarkably useful talent, Oghren," Nathaniel said after a moment.

"Aye, that it is. Saved my skin a time or two."

"So, what did she tell him?" Anders asked curiously.

"She said: 'Your claim of nobility carries no wait here, Temmerly. To be noble is more than just a title. I know as well as you that you murdered that poor woman. You would do well to confess your crime. Name your conspirators and I'll be lenient, name them not and, well…let's just say that you don't spend a year fighting darkspawn without learning a thing or two about making someone's life a living hell. Make no mistake, I will learn who they are, I will find them, and I will kill them,'" Oghren repeated, making a decent effort to mimic Falcon's cultured tones.

"Remind me never to get on Falcon's bad side," Anders murmured with a shudder.

"Duly noted," Nathaniel replied with a thoughtful expression of his own.

"Ooh, read the lips of the pretty brunette standing by Lord Edellbrek," Anders said excitedly.

Oghren narrowed his eyes at the woman for a moment, and then turned his gaze back to Anders.

"She's wonderin' if the Commander's single and willin' te share in some late night 'extracurricular activities' if ye get my meanin'."

"Really?" Anders squeaked, perking up as the image of Falcon and the voluptuous brunette…together…flashed through his mind.

"Ha! Fooled you, ye man-skirt wearin' freak!" Oghren guffawed, slapping Anders' back good naturedly before taking his leave.

"Bloody _dwarf_," Anders grumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

By then most of the crowd had filed out of the hall and the rest of the evening was spread out before him carte blanche. Only, he hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with his time. After aimlessly wandering the grounds and grabbing a quick bite to eat, Anders was left bored and wondering what exactly Wardens did when they weren't killing darkspawn. It was the only explanation, in his mind, that had him agreeing to a game of chess with Oghren in the Vigil's spacious library.

Anders had to hand it to the dwarf. Even in a drunken state Oghren was soundly kicking his ass. He was concentrating so hard on the game at hand that he hadn't even heard Falcon enter the room let alone approach them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she cleared her throat.

"Uh…hi, Commander. What's up?" he asked.

He noticed that she had changed out of the ceremonial armor and into a simple, cream-colored dress and a light-weight cloak snuggly wrapped around her shoulders. The dark material was beaded with tiny drops of water, no doubt from the ever-changing Amaranthine weather. When he arched an eyebrow in question she reached into the folds of her cloak and dumped something small and furry on the chessboard in front of him. The orange ball of fluff rolled over and two large, yellow eyes blinked up at him curiously. It stood and took a couple of cautious steps towards Anders, delicately sniffed the air in his direction, and opened its pink little mouth to let out a small mew that melted his heart into a puddle of goo.

"Aww, look at the cute little kitty!" Anders crooned as he wiggled a finger at the tabby. "Who's the pretty kitty?"

The cat eyed his finger wearily at first and then promptly pounced on it, its small teeth pricking at his skin. Anders chuckled, delighting in the kitten's antics.

"He's yours…if you want him that is," Falcon said as she smiled at him.

"You're giving me a cat?" Anders asked, blinking in surprise.

"Well, yes. I saw him wandering around the courtyard and remembered the story you told me about the cat you befriended in the tower."

"Poor Mr. Wiggums," Anders murmured sadly.

"Yes, well I thought perhaps the little guy could be something of a replacement. He's not of the darkspawn-killing variety, but no doubt you could teach him that in time," she continued with a sparkle in her eye.

"I—" he began, but wasn't quite sure what to say.

_She gave me a cat…she remembered what I said and gave me a cat, _he thought fervently as elation swept through him. Before he could think better of it he jumped up from his chair and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"Thank you," he breathed into her ear.

Immediately he was assaulted by her warm, clean sent and reveled in the feeling of her soft body pressed to his. _This has to be heaven, _he thought as he sighed in pleasure and squeezed his arms even tighter around her. Now, if he could just dip his head a little lower, he could taste the sensitive skin just behind her ear…

"Anders, _air!_" Falcon wheezed at him.

"Oh…right. Sorry," he stuttered as he let her go and took a step back in embarrassment.

Sitting back down at the chessboard before Falcon noticed his body's reaction to hers; Anders picked up the tabby and looked him straight in the eye.

"Now what shall I name you, hmm?" he cooed. "It would have to be a distinguished name for such a feisty lad. I know! I'll call you Ser-Pounce-a-lot!"

"_Really_, Anders?" Falcon asked as she arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"Hey, boss. Where's my gift?" Oghren interrupted.

Anders snorted, but then dropped his mouth open when Falcon threw him a sack.

"Mackay's single malt," she told him as Oghren pulled out a heavy decanter filled with amber liquor.

"That looks fine indeed, he-he," Oghren chuckled as he opened the bottle and took a swig. "Mmm, smoother than an Elvin babe's bottom."

_Okay, no reason to be alarmed. She gives Oghren booze all of the time, _Anders thought, though is heart dipped a little despite himself. For a moment he thought that she had singled him out, but at least she hadn't given Howe a gift, right? His good spirits returned at the thought.

"Hey, Lex? Can I talk to you a moment?" Nate's voice called from the doorway.

He was holding a bow in his hand, partially wrapped in a bolt of cloth. _Damn, _Anders thought with a scowl. _Then again…a bow is a serviceable item. Perhaps she thought he needed a new one? That' it. He needed new equipment. Not at all a sentimental gift. _

Anders pulled Ser-Pounce-a-Lot into his lap and began to scratch his furry little head to distract himself. The tabby stretched out on his lap and began to purr loudly in response. Anders tried to turn his attention back to the chess game, but he could not help but listen to the quiet conversation between Nate and Falcon.

"Might I assume that it was you who left this in my bedchamber?" Nate asked her as they sat in a set of chairs near the fire.

"Yes. I saw the Howe crest engraved in the wood and thought you might like to have it."

"Where did you find it?"

"In the basement. I went back after we…cleared it out, and found it tucked away. I would have given it to you sooner, but I had Master Wade restore it for you, just in case you might want to use it. That's alright isn't it?" she asked, her eyes growing weary.

"It's perfect," he replied hoarsely, squeezing her hand. "It was my grandfather's bow, you know. He, too, was a Grey Warden."

"I hadn't heard that," she said, obviously surprised.

"Yes, well, it wasn't exactly common knowledge. He joined the order before it returned to Fereldan, just after the war. Never contacted his family again, just vanished. Now that I know about the joining…I think he died."

"Many good men and women die in the Joining," she replied softly.

"I know that now. Father always said he was a horrible man for abandoning the family to join a pointless cause. I grew up ashamed of my grandfather, but now I see his bravery. That will take some getting used to," Nate said, shaking his head.

"So…that is why you were so angry at me for conscripting you," she murmured.

"Yes," he replied with a nod. "Or at least in part. I was brought up to despise the Wardens, and could not believe that I was to become the very thing my father hated most in this world. Just another thing he was wrong about. At any rate, I'm glad that you forced my hand. Thank you…and thank you for giving me my grandfather's bow. It means more to me than I can say."

"You're quite welcome, Nate, and I am glad that you have come to see the Order in a different light," she said as she stood.

By this point Anders was confused and disheartened. The hope that had sprung from her spontaneous gift had fizzled into uncertainty.

"So, Falcon…what's with the sudden generosity?" he found himself asking her, inwardly wincing as Oghren and Nathaniel both turned to glare at him.

She faltered, looking between the three of them, and then sighed.

"I simply wanted to show you my appreciation for your support over these past weeks, especially in Amaranthine. I haven't really been fair to any of you. I let my emotions overtake my common sense in battle, a mistake I hope never to repeat. You were right. We need to trust each other…implicitly. We are a far cry from any other organization, and not simply because of what we fight, or the secrets we must keep. There is more tying us together than our duty. We our bound by our tainted blood and no matter what happens, as long as we live, nothing can break that bond. I lost track of that, and for this, I am truly sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, Commander. You've been through a lot. Besides, we haven't exactly made it easy on you," Anders replied, throwing her a lop-sided grin and a wink.

She laughed heartily at that, making her face light up and her cheeks flush prettily. Anders felt almost giddy with the pleasure her reaction gave him. How did he not notice how infectious her laughter was before?

"I think I'll retire for the evening, as should all of you. Early day tomorrow," she called as she crossed the room to the door.

"Yes, mum!" Anders teased.

Falcon stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to chuckle as she waved and left the room. Anders shook his head in amazement. The woman never ceased to surprise him.

Nathaniel left shortly thereafter, once again leaving Oghren and Anders to themselves. He tried to concentrate on the game, but his mind kept wandering to Falcon. If Oghren noticed his distraction, he didn't comment on it. They sat in comfortable silence for nearly a quarter of an hour before Anders spoke up once again.

"Oghren?"

"Sparkles?"

"I want to call off our bet," Anders replied, making the dwarf meet his eyes for the first time all night.

"What! Why?" Oghren crowed.

"It just doesn't seem right anymore. And besides, if she were to ever find out, she'd probably chop off both our manly bits and feed them to Hector."

Oghren stared at him in shock for a long moment, and then guffawed in amusement.

"Ancestor's tits! Yer in love with her, aren't ye?" Oghren hooted once he caught his breath.

"L-love is such a strong word," Anders stuttered, flushing red.

"And yet ye do, don't ya', kid? Ooh, boy! This jest keeps gettin' better n' better. Double or nothin' Howe gets to her first," Oghren crowed as he rubbed his hands together in delight.

Anders sputtered, his face turning redder and redder as he struggled to find the words.

"Don't get yer panties all in a twist, mage. I'm jest yankin' ye around. Consider our bet null in void. Jest, uh…take it easy on her, Anders. Her heart's on the mend, but I'm not sure she's ready to let another in jest yet," Oghren said, his face falling into serious lines as he spoke.

Anders was shocked. Oghren had never called him by name. He knew the dwarf did so on purpose just to prove how serious he was. He had to smile a little at that. He didn't know what Falcon did to earn such loyalty from Oghren, but he had to respect the dwarf's protective nature. He also noticed that he hadn't told him to stay away from Falcon, only to be careful with her. From Oghren that was practically an endorsement.

He remembered how Falcon had felt in his arms, and his heart began to pound in time with Pounce's purring. Now if only he could convince her that she belonged there…

Tiny claws jabbing into his thighs interrupted his musings. Anders looked down at the cat and his heart melted all over again as Pounce stared up at him expectantly.

"What do you think, kitty?" Anders murmured.

Ser-Pounce-a-Lot mewed, and then promptly relieved himself in Anders' lap.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"The Grey Havens" by Howard Shore (Return of the King OST) and "I Had a Destiny" by Alan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST). _


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 – Into the Wood**

"Why'd it have to be trees?" Alyx hissed as yet another wild sylvan crashed to the ground at her feet.

"You've seen these before, Commander?" Nate asked as he wiped his sweaty brow with one arm and scowled down at the soot that came off with the moisture.

"Yes, in the Brecilian Forest during the blight. Only they weren't ablaze as these ones are."

She winced as Anders grabbed her hand and ran his long fingers over a fresh burn spanning the length of her forearm. She felt the warm, tingling sensation that always accompanied healing magic and sighed as the pain dissipated.

"Thanks," she murmured gratefully.

Anders' talents were Maker sent, or so she thought as she ran a finger down the pink-tinged skin that had just been charred flesh. It was times like these that she was reminded how lucky she was to have him. She watched as he moved first to Oghren and then to Nate, tending similar burns both received during the skirmish before mending his own wounds.

"If this keeps up, I'll be drained before we ever come across the darkspawn," Anders quipped cheerfully as he finished up his ministrations.

Alyx crouched beside the fallen sylvan and reached for her blade, still jutting from the tree's smoldering form. She winced and immediately pulled her hand back as the heated metal burned her fingertips. Digging through her pack, she found a well-worn, serviceable scarf crammed at the very bottom. She pulled it free and wound it around her hand, tying it in a knot to secure it before reaching for the blade once again. Her nostrils flared as the smell of smoke overwhelmed her senses. Between the trees and the caravans, she had a feeling it would be days before the stench escaped her.

Ever since they entered the Wending Wood they had been attacked first by bandits (there, she assumed, to pillage the destroyed caravans) and then by the crazed sylvans, which had initially been concentrating on said bandits. Nothing about the day's events thus far had made any sense.

"I don't think the darkspawn are responsible for this. If they are, then they have become far more clever than I ever gave them credit for," Alyx murmured as she straightened.

"There _is_ something very strange about all of this, isn't there?" Nate replied, echoing her previous thought. "Responsible or not, there certainly are darkspawn in the area. I can sense them, but it's weak…like they're far away—"

"Or beneath us, more like," Alyx added with an approving nod. "Let's press forward. Perhaps we can find more answers further on."

They didn't have to wait long. They had barely crossed the rickety wooden bridge leading into an area of the wood heavily laden with Tevinter ruins when the pounding of frantic footsteps met Alyx's ears. A scrawny man in shabby leather armor turned the corner and rammed into her, nearly knocking her clean off her feet in the process.

"Out of my way!" the man growled in a harsh, uneducated voice.

Alyx opened her mouth to yell at the man to watch where he was going, but then she saw the fear in his eyes and stopped him instead.

"Calm down. Why are you fleeing?" she asked in a quiet voice as she grabbed his arm to prevent him from running.

"No! You don't understand! I have to get out of here! She's after me!" the man cried.

"Who's after you?" she asked, confused.

"The elf! She makes the trees come alive! All we wanted was some easy money from the caravans, but—"

"Another scavenger here to prey on the misfortunes of others?" a cool, smooth voice interrupted from the hilltop above them.

The petite form of a blonde elf appeared from out of the shadows of the ruins perched at the top of the peek. Judging by her clothing (what little of them that there were), the facial tattoos, and the proud tilt of her chin, Alyx guessed that the woman was Dalish.

"No. You are too well armed. Here for me then," the elf continued, crossing her arms in front of her chest as her expression grew utterly glacial. "You will not drive me from these forests. The shems could not do it, the darkspawn could not, and you will fare no better!"

"Why would I try to drive you away?" Alyx asked her as she mimicked the other woman's stance.

"Because your kind have been hounding me for months! They killed my people, and the merchants kidnapped my sister! The caravans are only the beginning. I want Seranni returned to me or more will die. Consider this a warning!"

And with that the elf disappeared with great theatricality, a sound akin to a bolt of lightning still reverberating in the air long after her departure.

"Neat trick," Anders said as he turned to shoot Alyx a goofy grin. "Do you think I could learn how to do that?"

"Sure. Let me just ask the angry elf to take time out of her vendetta-filled schedule to teach you how to properly disappear," she said dryly.

"Point taken," he replied, ducking his head to hide his answering grin.

They continued further up the path, fighting more bandits and sylvans along the way. Soon, they stumbled on the remains of a small Dalish camp. It looked abandoned, the few visible land-ships stripped of their wheels and any available goods destroyed or scattered across the ruins.

"Don't these Dalish travel in packs?" Oghren asked as he scratched his head. "What's with the tiny camp? And here—looks like there was a bit of a fight, but no bodies. Just all these weapons."

"There," Alyx replied softly, pointing to a line of carefully constructed burial mounds lined on the far side of the camp.

"I didn't know the Dalish buried their dead," Anders murmured.

"Nor did I," Alyx said in return.

"I don't know. Something smells here, Commander, and it isn't me," Oghren interjected.

"Who would just discard their weapons like this? It doesn't make any sense," Nate added as he crouched to take a closer look at the pile of abandoned weapons.

"Well, that's the rub, isn't it?" Alyx replied.

Nathaniel looked up at her and smiled, surprising her yet again as it did every time that he smiled at her. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.

"The darkspawn are gaining ground," he continued as he straightened and looked off into the distance.

"Shall we give them a warm welcome, then?" she replied with a devious smile of her own.

From that point on it seemed that everything in the wood was out to get them. They couldn't walk more than a few yards without yet another wild sylvan or a pack of wolves attacking them. Alyx was beginning to feel like they were walking in circles, yet they still hadn't run into any darkspawn. She was growing impatient when they found the evidence of infestation that they were looking for: a pit filled with dead, mutilated bodies.

"Gah!" Alyx grumbled as she pinched her nose in disgust. "I could've lived without ever experiencing _this_ again."

"Glad to see some things don't change. Warms the heart, even," Anders replied cheekily.

"You are utterly ridiculous, you know that?" Nate growled, scowling at Anders.

"You mean ridiculously awesome, right?" Anders threw back.

"Enough. It is obvious that the darkspawn were here. Let's move—" Alyx began.

"Falcon," Oghren interrupted.

He was crouched a few feet away staring at the ground. He looked up at her and gestured for her to join him. When she kneeled beside him he pointed to the earth at their feet.

"Blood," she murmured, pressing her fingers to the earth and then rubbing them together. "Fresh, too."

"Leads off in that direction," he replied, looking off to the east.

Alyx blinked at him, noticing for the first time that Oghren was sober. _Hmm, maybe I should hide his liquor stores, _she thought, amazed at how much more perceptive he was when he wasn't three sheets to the wind. It reminded her that there was a time when Oghren had been considered the best and the brightest of the warrior caste. Some of his former colleagues had been heard to say that he had once been a brilliant tactician as well as a formidable fighter on the battlefield. Then Branka had left and his world fell apart. Grimacing, she realized that she wasn't helping the situation by allowing him to overindulge, but she also knew that pushing him to quit would most likely have the opposite effect. She couldn't really blame him either. There were times when she seriously considered falling into a bottle head first as he had, but then her responsibilities would always bring her firmly back to reality.

"Good job, Oghren," she told him as she slapped him on the back good-naturedly before standing and brushing off her knees.

They followed the trail of blood down a winding dirt path, the splatters growing into full-blown puddles by the time they found yet another camp in a small clearing.

"Oh no," Alyx whispered as she spotted the single man sprawled by the fire.

He wore blood-stained splintmail and though alive, had all the telltale signs of the darkspawn taint.

"Poor sod," Anders said in a low voice beside her. "Do you want to put him out of his misery or shall I?"

"Let's just—see if he's lucid enough to answer some questions first," she replied once she swallowed the pity that rose into her throat at the sight of the suffering man.

She walked towards him slowly, deliberately, so as to not frighten him needlessly. Yet when she crouched beside him he still nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Don't! Just…stay away from me! Don't come near…" the man hissed as he attempted to scoot away from her.

"Shhh, it's alright. We're not here to harm you. We're Grey Wardens," she said in a calm, soothing tone. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Name? I…have a name, but I can't…" he ground out, every word painfully forced between his cracked lips as his body shook from the taint in his blood.

"What happened? Why were you here?" she asked him slowly so that he could understand her words.

"Militia…came to in-investigate…We…were ripped apart…biting claws and teeth from the darkness and…then I woke…flesh and bone and gristle under me…around me. Everyone dead…dead, soft meat melting into the ground. I…I crawled away…came here. Can't stand to see…it…"

"Did you kill the elves?" she persisted.

"No. No. Darkspawn came first. They slaughtered us…took our steel. Brought it to the elven camp. Tricked us…tricked elf. Now…she thinks we are to blame. Hunts all in her rage…while they watch…"

"So…all these people died over a…misunderstanding?" Anders interjected, his voice laced with shock and anger. "Maker…that's horrible! We have to stop her, tell her she's wrong! Do you think she's back at her camp?"

"The dark ones are curious about you, too," the man continued, ignoring Anders. "They watch as well as her. Can you feel them?"

Even as he said this, she could feel the all-too familiar vibration creeping across her skin. They were close…_too _close.

"Where did the darkspawn come from?" she asked him.

"Beneath…around…from shadows…" he wheezed out between deep, haggard breaths of air, milky eyes darting everywhere.

"Do you know anything about the elf's sister?"

"Sister? I…have a sister…do I? Elf-sister? No…we did not take her. Probably dead…or eaten."

_Or currently pumping out baby darkspawn as we speak, _she thought grimly, remembering the broodmother they found in the deep roads. She shuddered at the mere thought of such a fate.

"This disease will kill you, you know," she said softly, turning sympathetic eyes back towards the man.

"Am already dead. Am already gone. Make…make an end…_please_," he breathed, his eyes begging her.

Alyx closed her eyes for a moment, knowing what she had to do, but hating that she had to take this poor man's life. Hesitantly, she pulled her dirk from her belt holster. Though small, the dagger was her sharpest blade. It would make his death both quicker and cleaner for the both of them. She gently cupped the back of his head with one hand and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Maker have mercy on you." Then with a flick of her wrist it was over. She promptly wiped the blade clean and placed it back in its holster.

"Uh…Commander? We're about to have company," Anders called from behind her.

Turning, she saw the first of the darkspawn melting from out of the shadows. The others noticed as well, but it was too late. They were surrounded.

* * *

***Muse Tunes:**_"The First Ambush" by John Williams (Patriot OST) and "Cursed by Beauty" by Tyler Bates (300 OST). _


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 - Down the Rabbit Hole**

"Is it just me, or was that _far_ too easy?" Anders drawled as they headed back towards the Dalish camp.

"Too easy," Alyx agreed. "They didn't exactly send out their best and brightest, did they? Something tells me we haven't seen the last of the darkspawn just yet."

"_And_ we still need to confront our little bloodthirsty friend," he added with relish.

Alyx shook her head in disbelief as a small, secret smile wreathed her lips. She had to give it to Anders. He could turn almost _anything_ into a joke. It didn't lead one to believe that he was the most intelligent of men, yet she knew for a fact that he could be surprisingly astute when it suited him.

In this case, he was absolutely dead on.

The darkspawn had descended on them almost before any of them sensed their presence. They even had them greatly outnumbered, but it took little effort to take them out…far too little effort in her opinion. This made her think that these particular darkspawn were no more than a distraction, fodder for the Grey Warden blades as it were. Even more curious was the discovery that they were decisively pitting the humans against the elves. _But for what purpose? _She asked herself, brow furrowed in apprehension. If nothing else was clear, the fact that the darkspawn were indeed evolving had certainly made itself _quite_ apparent. _A frightening thought,_ she said to herself. _A frightening thought, indeed. _

As they drew closer to the ruins where the elf's camp had been, they were attacked by another wave of sylvans, followed by yet another pack of blood-crazed wolves…courtesy of their Dalish friend no doubt. Alyx had glimpsed just a flash of movement from the ruins on the hill above them, but it was enough to recognize the scantily clad figure.

By the time they fought their way through to the top of the peek, Alyx was fuming. She had every intention of giving the elvin mage a piece of her mind, but when they found her, hunched over in obvious grief by the freshly-dug grave mounds, her heart went out to the woman. After all, if anyone could relate to her loss it would be her.

"You'll never take me alive," the elf said without turning.

"I'm not going to kill you," Alyx replied softly as she sheathed her blades.

"Yer not?" Oghren grunted in surprise, earning a glare from Alyx.

"I will not go with you to some…shemlen magistrate. I won't bow to your rules," the elf snapped as she wrapped her arms tighter around her center.

"I just wish to talk, that is all," Alyx replied as she took a step closer.

The woman laughed, a sound that cracked through the air with palpable loathing and distrust.

"Talk, then," she replied as she finally turned to face them.

"The humans are not to blame for what happened here."

"You expect me to believe that? I know a human crime when I see it. I have experienced more than enough of them. What of the weapons…or my sister's disappearance?"

"The weapons were planted by the darkspawn."

The elf paused at that, her eyes widening at the implications of what she said. She could almost hear the wheels turning in the smaller woman's head as she mulled over Alyx's words.

"I wondered why anyone would discard the weapons, but you say the darkspawn planted them? Why would they do that?" she finally asked.

"I don't know, but I am going to find out," Alyx replied. When the elf simply stood there glaring at her, Alyx sighed. "Look, I know that it sounds crazy, and I know that you are unlikely to trust the words of a human after all that has happened but you _must_ believe what I say."

"Must I?" the elf snapped. "And why is that?"

"I found this trinket. One of the darkspawn that attacked us was carrying it," Alyx replied, handing her the small, meticulously carved piece of ironbark inlaid with silver and suspended from a leather cord.

"That…that is Seranni's," the elf exclaimed, eyes widening as she grabbed it from Alyx's hand. "She would never willingly part with that. Our mother gave it to her before she died."

Her eyes had gone soft as she stared at the bauble, gently rubbing a thumb over the smooth wood. She squeezed her eyes shut as she closed her hand tightly around the pendant and held it close to her chest. Slowly, her eyes opened again, shining with quiet resolve.

"You have no reason to trust me, but let me come with you."

Both Oghren and Anders snorted behind her.

"After you killed all those people? After you tried to kill us as well?" Alyx said in disbelief.

"I fell for the darkspawn's deception and I took lives, this is true. I see how this was a mistake. I swear to you if I get Seranni back, I will leave this place. For good."

Alyx eyed her wearily for a long moment, and then sighed as she made her decision.

"Very well. You may come along, but know that I'll be keeping my eye on you," Alyx replied.

"Great. Another twitchy magic sort. Jest what we need," Oghren grumbled.

_This day just keeps getting better and better, _she groaned to herself as she rubbed at her temples, trying to dissuade the headache that was settling in from getting any worse.

"My name is Velanna, if you care for such things. Do you know where the darkspawn might dwell?" the elf continued.

"Tunnels, most likely," Alyx replied.

"There is an abandoned mine some ways to the north of here. The tunnels run far into the earth. Mayhap this is good place to start?" Velanna asked.

"Show me," Alyx commanded.

It didn't take long to find the mines. They had, in fact, passed it while trailing the darkspawn earlier in the day, though it was well hidden behind the overgrown brush. It shouldn't have surprised anyone that an Ogre was waiting for them at the entrance, flanked by an emissary and a handful of genlocks and herlocks.

Velanna proved to be quite the powerful mage; this hardly being a surprise after everything she had put them through up to this point. Though her companions were equally skilled and _finally_ attuned to each other's fighting techniques (and about damn time, too), she was glad to have her along…at least in this.

"Foul creatures, these darkspawn. Nearly as bad as you humans!" Velanna spat as she wiped her brow after the last of the darkspawn fell.

_Now if only she could control that mouth of hers, _Alyx thought wryly. She caught Anders rolling his eyes as he stooped to whisper in her ear.

"Are you sure we have to take her along?"

Alyx tried not to laugh.

"I gave my word. However, if she puts even a _pinky_ toe out of line, we leave her behind…or maybe I'll just make her walk drag behind Oghren. _That_ would show her not to cross me."

"Mmm, I love it when you talk dirty," Anders purred, eyebrows waggling in suggestion.

It was Nate's turn to groan and roll his eyes as Alyx finally gave in and stopped fighting the urge to giggle. She couldn't help herself. Just when she didn't think they could surprise her any longer…

"Are we going after the darkspawn or are we going to stand about all day?" Velanna snapped haughtily as she crossed her arms in front her chest.

"What's the rush, _my Lady_? You have a hot date with an emissary?" Anders asked Velanna with a leer.

"I didn't know that Grey Wardens were so disgustingly absurd…or is that just your personality, human?" she spat back at him.

"Anders, enough. Velanna, I promised that you could come along, but could you please refrain from verbally abusing my men?" Alyx butted in.

Velanna huffed, but eventually nodded in agreement.

After looking over the darkspawn corpses for anything useful, they entered the crumbling ruin that housed the entrance to the mines. Velanna visibly gulped as she stared into the pitch-black hole leading into the tunnels.

"Aww, is the big bad elf scared of the dark?" Anders crooned from behind her.

"Anders, decorum if you will," Alyx sighed.

"Oh, _sorry_, mum. I didn't realize we were heading into a tea party."

"Anders—"

"What?"

"Shut. Up."

"Well, aren't we snippy today? Is it that time of the month?" Anders grumbled dejectedly.

"Silence you fool!" Nate hissed at Anders. "Do you want to alert every darkspawn in these tunnels of our presence?"

"Wouldn't they already _know_ of our presence? With the whole 'tainted-blood-they-can-sense-us-just-as-we-can-sense-them' nonsense…just saying," Ander replied sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at Nate.

"That doesn't mean that you should jump up and down and yell, 'Here I am!' _Anders_," Nate replied coolly.

"Well that would be just plain stupid," he huffed, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Enough! _The both of you!_" Alyx growled, shooting a scathing look behind her.

"Uh, Commander—"

"I mean it, Anders! Are you five years old, that you can't keep silent for more than a few minutes?"

"I think you shoul—"

"Are you even listening—"

"Watch out for that—"

"—to the words that are coming out of my…_what_ is _that_?" she said as she stared at the ground beneath her feet.

It was glowing.

_"What is that?" _she repeated.

She had thought it strange that anyone would bother engraving the floor of a mine shaft, but knowing very little of ancient dwarven customs, she didn't give it a lot of thought. Now that her mind was starting to go numb, she wished she had paid more attention to where she was going.

"Magical…booby…trap," Anders breathed, apparently besieged by the same incapacitation that was sweeping over her.

_Oh, shit, _she thought as her vision began to swim and her arms and legs refused to move at her silent command.

"Nobody…panic," she ground out between clenched teeth.

"Bloody…brilliant…plan…Falcon," he replied.

_I am _so_ killing Anders later if we survive this, _Alyx thought before her head reeled and everything suddenly faded to black.

* * *

Her hearing was the first thing that returned to her, though it was weak…muffled; like trying to hear a conversation from the other side of a thick, stone wall. She couldn't understand the words but that voice…so very close yet so very far away…she knew that voice. She listened harder, and recognized the other voices that were buzzing just at the edge of her consciousness. So familiar…

Soon other sensations began to develop. She could feel something cool and wet slip across her brow and then trickle down her neck to the crevice between her breasts. She began to feel a tingling warmth climb up her arms and legs. It was a pleasant feeling as well as a familiar one.

_Healing magic. Am I injured? _She thought.

She bid her eyelids to open, but they were heavy...ever so heavy…

"I think she's waking," the closest voice said.

Slowly, Alyx opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry at first but quickly sharpening, only to focus on a set of all-too familiar silverite eyes staring down into hers with concern.

Strangely her first thought was, _He must have the longest eyelashes I have ever seen on a man, _only to be followed by the more practical, _He looks really worried. Not about me I hope. _

"Thank the Maker," she heard Anders breathe from somewhere nearby.

Nate continued to stare down at her, the strained look only leaving his eyes when she began to focus. It was then that she realized that she was draped across his lap, his arm and shoulder supporting her back. Alyx's breath seized in her throat as she realized just how very intimate of a position she was in. Without thinking, she sprung up from his lap and was across the room before she could register the dizzying sensation that nearly made her stumble to the ground. For a moment she thought she glimpsed a flicker of hurt in his steely gaze, but readily dismissed it as a figment of her imagination.

Rubbing her temple, Alyx took a look around and noticed for the first time that they weren't in a room but a dungeon. All five of them were in the same cell, their armor and weapons had been taken and replaced with plain, dirty homespun clothing. Nothing even remotely sharp or useful was in sight.

Out of habit she reached for the chain she always wore around her neck (a nervous habit she picked up over the years) and gasped when she felt nothing but skin. _No, no, no! _She thought as tears pricked the back of her eyes. Of all the things for them to take, that was the _last_ thing she would ever want in the hands of the darkspawn. She could care less if she got the rest of her things back, but she wasn't leaving until she retrieved that pendant.

"Are you alright? How do you feel?" Anders asked her, breaking into her silent panic.

"A bit woozy, but otherwise whole. What happened?" she asked, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant.

"Not entirely sure, Commander. The darkspawn stripped us of our gear and dumped us in this cell…all except you, that is. We were beginning to lose hope when they finally brought you in. Do you remember anything?" Anders replied.

"It's a bit hazy…I…I remember a darkspawn…or at least I _think_ it was a darkspawn. He spoke to me, just like the one at the Vigil…only he seemed to know me…"

Alyx's brow furrowed in concentration as she recalled a twisted, grotesque face hovering over her; of struggling to sit up, only to find her arms and legs restrained …and then a dark voice rumbling across her senses…a voice that sent chills straight up her spine.

"_So you are the Commander of the Grey Wardens? Do not be frightened. Your injuries have been tended to. I apologize for what I must do, I do not wish to be your enemy, but now is not the time for this. Shhh…rest…" _

"What did it want?" Oghren asked from the opposite corner of the cell.

"I wish I knew," she replied with a sigh.

"Well _I_ for one am not in the mood to wait around to find out," Anders interjected as he stood to his full height.

"Yer one to talk, sparkles. We wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if it weren't fer that smartass mouth of yers," Oghren spat.

"He-ey!" Anders cried, incensed.

"It wasn't his fault, Oghren. Besides, this is hardly the time to be bantering accusations around. We need to find a way out of here, and quickly," Alyx said.

"Shh! Someone's coming!" Nate hissed from behind her.

They could hear the screech of rusted metal on metal as a door on the other side of the room swung open. A small figure in chainmail slipped through the portal.

"Seranni!" Velanna cried as she jumped to her feet, eyes widening as she took in the bruised, bloodied skin and milky eyes of one long infected by the taint. "Oh creators, what have they done to you?"

"They haven't done anything. I…I'm fine, Velanna. It's not me he wants…I have to get you out before something bad happens. I don't want anyone else to be hurt," Seranni said, her voice shaking.

"Yes, alright. Let me out and I'll take you home," Velanna replied impatiently, her hands constricting around the heavy metal bars that separated her from her kin.

Seranni took a key from out of a small bag at her hip and unlocked the heavy cell door. Velanna launched herself into her sister's arms, but the other woman hesitated and stepped back from out of her sister's embrace.

"The darkspawn have your things. You can still get it all back if you're careful and clever. They're going to come back to check on you. You have to hurry," Seranni told them.

"Seranni, you have to tell me what's going on. You must know _something_," Alyx pleaded.

"I-I don't know anything!" Seranni hissed and then snapped her head around as if hearing something they could not. "They're coming. You have to go, find your way out of the mines. Please!"

"Seranni, wait!" Velanna cried after her sister's fleeing form.

She tried to follow her but Alyx held her back.

"Let me go human!" Velanna hissed as she fought Alyx's grip.

"She's tainted, Velanna. Beyond anything even_ I_ might have been able to offer."

"No! I can't just leave her here with these…these _things_. There has to be another way!"

"If there is, I swear I'll do everything in my power to help her, but right now we need to find a way out of here."

Velanna ceased struggling and hung her head in resignation. Alyx let her go and signaled for them to get ready to move. She could hear the howl of approaching darkspawn echoing off the stone walls.

"We'll have to fight our way out. Anders, Velanna, take front guard. We might not be armed, but you both still have your magic. Paralyze them and we'll finish them off. We'll take whatever weapons we come across," she commanded as they prepared to embark.

They picked their way through the tunnels, collecting weapons from the fallen darkspawn as they went. It was slow going, but they were making progress…or so Alyx thought. It was hard to tell in the dark, dank tunnels that all looked so much alike. They turned yet another corner when Alyx nearly ran smack dab into Anders, who had come to an abrupt halt in front of her.

"Hey! That _thing_ has my stuff! Oh, you're going to be in _pieces_ when I'm done with you!" he yelled as he pointed at a ghoul wandering around an open area of the mine wearing Anders' robes, his staff strapped jauntily to its back.

Suddenly, darkspawn and ghouls alike poured into the chamber as ciaos ensued.

"Look for the ghouls with our gear!" Alyx yelled above the din of battle.

It was a long, grueling fight just by sheer numbers alone. By the end Alyx was exhausted and drenched with sweat and blood, but she didn't care. They were alive and each of them had retrieved their personal belongings from the ghouls. After pulling on the last of her armor, she reached for her necklace still latched around the ghoul's neck. She shuddered to think of such a personal item being worn by the twisted, decomposing creature in front of her, but the sheer pleasure of retrieving it far outweighed her disgust.

"Ick," she muttered under her breath as she leaned over the figure to unclasp the chain rather than try to lift it up over the ghoul's head. The clasp came free faster than she thought it would, dumping the contents of the necklace to the floor with a clang. She snatched up the pendant with her free hand, but the ring that had also been on the chain had rolled away, only to stop next to Nate's foot halfway across the room. He leaned down and picked it up, eyes widening infinitesimally before he crossed to her and held it out.

"Thanks," she murmured, taking the ring from him and looping it back on the chain along with the pendant before securing it around her neck. She breathed a deep sigh of relief as she felt the comforting weight of it as it fell into place just above her heart. "Are we ready to move on?"

"I guess, though I don't rightly know what that nug-humpin'-son-of-a-bitch did to my boots," Oghren grunted.

"You have them on the wrong feet, _dwarf_," Anders replied dryly, sounding almost bored with Oghren's antics.

Oghren looked down at his feet and then shrugged as Anders rolled his eyes. Alyx shook her head in disbelief as they continued through the winding passages, praying that they were headed in the right direction.

Oddly enough, Nate kept pace with her, an unusual as well as an unforeseen occurrence. She could tell something was on his mind by the way he kept glancing over at her, but she also knew if she pressed him he would retreat back into his shell. So she waited from him to speak his mind. She didn't have to wait long.

"Care to explain to me why you have a signet ring with the Theirin crest on it?" he asked her in a low voice so that only she could hear his query.

_Shit. Of course he would recognize the royal seal. Double shit, _she thought as her heart began to race. Alyx visibly gulped as he stared at her speculatively, waiting for her to respond.

"Look, I swear I'll explain everything when we get back to the keep, but now is not the time. Trust me, Nathaniel, _please,_" she whispered frantically.

He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips thinning in obvious disapproval, but finally acquiesced before slowing his pace to fall behind her. Her heart dropped when she noticed that he adopted the same shuttered expression he had worn before they had made peace with each other back in Amaranthine.

Alyx's heart constricted painfully. She knew all along that she would have to tell them sooner or later; she just hadn't counted on 'sooner' being thrust upon her by her own stupid carelessness. Fear crept through her veins as the full impact of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. She would have to tell them the whole of it. If she played in half-truths now, it would anger them all the more later on for keeping them in the dark for so long…and they _would_ be angry, of that she was certain. If only she had more time. She had counted on having time enough to consider a course of action before involving them in a burden that should not be there's to uphold in the first place. That was the reason (_in_ _part_, she reminded herself) that only a handful of her most trusted companions knew of it, because the _knowledge_ in and of itself was what scared her more than anything else.

"Are you sure you're alright, Commander?" Anders asked as he moved to her side. "You look a bit peekish."

"I'm fine. Really," she replied, shooting him a weak smile. "Let's concentrate on getting out, and then you can fuss over me all you want."

"Is that a promise?" he asked suggestively, his voice pitching to a lower octave.

Alyx rolled her eyes, but shot him an answering smile all the same.

They moved faster now that they were fully armed and ready for anything the darkspawn could throw at them. They found more ruins deeper into the mines, which could only be a good sign, or so Alyx thought.

"There _has_ to be a way out from here," she called as they began opening doors and peering into each chamber with the hope that one of them would lead back to the surface.

The last of the rooms she recognized. It was _here_ that she had been held captive by the strange, twisted figure with the unsettling voice. A chill shot down her spine as her gaze drifted to the ancient alter perched in the middle of the room before taking in the rest of their surroundings. Half of the chamber was lined with tables piled high with books and worn scraps of parchment. The rest looked like something straight out of one of her more colorful nightmares. Empty cages hung perversely over the mouth of a pit holding Maker knows what at the bottom, a strange green-tinged fog wafting up from its depths.

"Ugh, what is that _smell_," Anders ground out as he pinched his nose.

"I'd rather not know," Nate murmured, his face white with disgust.

Alyx meandered the room distractedly, running a hand over the contents of the closest table.

"It's a laboratory," she murmured as she scanned some of the notes scribbled on a stack of loose parchment.

"What in blazes would a _darkspawn_ be studying?" Oghren asked.

"I'm not really sure. These are only fragments…sporadic thoughts if you will, but he seems to be fascinated by Grey Wardens. I'm sorry, Velanna, it looks like your sister was aiding him willingly."

"Creepy," Anders replied, shuddering at the thought.

"I concur. Let's get out of here. I think I've seen enough of this place to last me a lifetime," Alyx said as she turned to leave.

They continued to walk through the seemingly endless corridors until they came upon a flight of stairs; the first that they had seen since entering the mine. They led to a set of heavy metal doors thrown open to reveal a vast, empty chamber lined with ancient, crumbling Tevinter architecture.

He was waiting there for them, standing on a balcony overlooking the main corridor. Both a tainted dwarf and Velanna's sister stood proudly at his side. _The Architect, _a voice whispered in her mind. The thought startled her. She couldn't recall ever learning his _name_ for the lack of a better term, yet she knew it all the same.

"What is she doing with that…that _monster_? Seranni!" Velanna cried, her voice echoing off the tall, stone walls.

Seranni turned to look at her sister, eyes filled with fear and remorse. She then shifted her milky gaze to the creature standing beside her, a queer smile forming on her lips. The Architect nodded at Seranni as if in answer to a silent question, and then turned on his heel and walked back through a gap in the wall behind them. When the trio moved passed the opening, he raised his hands and began to cast. A bright ball of energy came to life within his hands, pulsing and growing until it shot from his fingers. The wall crumbled, effectively caving in the gap and making it impossible for them to follow.

"No! Seranni! Come back," Velanna cried, though her voice weakened as the last of her hope seemed to fade.

They didn't have time to wonder at Seranni or the darkspawn's strange behavior for long. A feral cry and the beating of giant wings was all the warning they had before not one but _two_ dragons landed within the chamber, their predatory eyes gleaming in the low light. The dragons began to close in on their small group, clucking their giant beaks in excitement. Alyx slowly took a step back and then another, only to run into a solid form directly behind her. She could feel strong fingers wrap around her arm followed by a pulse of magic that spread lightly across her skin. She returned Anders' firm grasp with a brief squeeze of her own, garnering what strength that she could with the silent vote of confidence.

"I hope you've been working on those ice spells, Anders," she murmured. "Because I really think we're going to need them."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Cloning Discovery" by Graeme Revell (Aeon Flux OST) and "Merchant of Death" by Ramin Djawadi (Iron Man OST). _


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 – Coming Home**

_If I never face another dragon again, I can die a happy woman, _Alyx thought as they finally made their way out of the mines, blood-drenched and exhausted. It had been a grueling battle, the hardest she had faced since the end of the blight. Yet they made it through, and in one piece too, thank the Maker.

By the time they had reached the surface the sun had already set. Velanna suggested they make use of her campsite, and although none of them were comfortable with this solution, no one had the energy to make camp elsewhere either. Luckily it was a warm, clear night; perfect for sleeping under the stars. The Wardens simply laid their bedrolls out by the fire. Velanna chose to sleep separately.

They spent the next several days combing the woods for lingering darkspawn, cleaning up after Velanna's mess, and in taking care of some odd jobs Alyx had picked up back in Amaranthine. They found the mage Ines and convinced her to do Wynne's bidding, and even had an interesting conversation with a couple of ancient Avvar statues.

Velanna's addition to their numbers made for many colorful conversations amongst her companions, but it also was the source of a great deal of strife. She had a deep loathing for humans and did not hesitate to remind them of this at every turn. She took nearly anything said to her as an insult and reveled in prodding the tempers of her already travel-weary men. Alyx had nearly reconsidered her agreement with the Dalish mage on more than one occasion based solely on the woman's obnoxious attitude, but then she would remind herself how desperately they needed new Wardens. It was difficult enough to conceive that Velanna wished to be a Grey Warden in the first place.

After nearly a week of traipsing through the forest, it became apparent that any remaining darkspawn had fled to the deep roads or were too far underground for them to detect. Alyx decided it was finally time for them to head back to the Vigil. There Velanna would take her Joining, and the rest of them could partake in a few days of well deserved rest before continuing on to the Knotwood Hills.

Now, sitting alone by the fire while the rest of her companions slept, Alyx savored the quiet and solitude that was rarely afforded to her anymore. They were less than a half-day's ride from the Vigil and she could not wait to return to the place that had quickly become something of a sanctuary to her. She wondered if any of the others felt the same way about the keep as she did.

There was once a time that she could not imagine considering anywhere but Highever as home. Then later, during the blight, she recalled a conversation she had with Alisitair on the subject.

"_We won't always be traveling like this you know. Once the war is over, once the blight is, well…a time will come when we'll have to think about having a real home again. Is there…anywhere you consider home?" _Alistair had asked her, sounding oddly nervous though she couldn't understand why at the time.

"_I guess my home is with the Grey Wardens now. With you," _she had told him.

"_I…I guess I like the sound of that," _he had stuttered with such a sweet mix of surprise and elation on his face that she couldn't help but fall in love with him all the more.

Then after the blight, after…everything else, nothing felt right at all. Denerim was empty and cold, little more than a ruin after the battle, and Highever just wasn't home anymore without the warm and constant presence of her parents…let alone the absence of all the other familiar faces of the poor souls who perished that long ago night. She never truly wished to come to Amaranthine, to be forced to live in the former home of the man that had, for all intents and purposes, destroyed everything she knew and loved. The keep itself was a monstrosity; far bigger than Highever castle by far. She never cared for the furnishings, and it had possibly the scariest basement ever imagined, yet somehow the Vigil spoke to her in ways she never thought possible. Perhaps this was because it was a constant. Fereldan itself had grown and changed, had been destroyed and rebuilt, but through it all the Vigil remained. Ever present, ever watching, just as its name implied.

"You are unlike any human I've met before," a feminine voice said nearby, startling her out of her musings.

Alyx looked up to see Velanna standing on the other side of the campfire, staring at her in confusion.

"Why do you say that?" Alyx asked her.

"I can see that you are no common peasant, yet you treat me like an equal. Why is that?" Velanna asked as she circled the fire and sat down next to her.

"Why should I not? I fought by the side of a Dalish clan during the blight and found them to be both tenacious and honorable. In short, I have a great deal of respect for your people," Alyx replied.

"See? That right there. That is not a common opinion amongst your kind," Velanna snapped.

"Perhaps not amongst the common folk, no. Grey Wardens, however, do not discriminate according to race. We conscript on skill and skill alone. Thus, ours is more of an integrated society, and a much more egalitarian way of thinking if I do say so myself." Alyx replied. "You should get used to the idea, Velanna. You will be spending a great deal of time in the company of humans. As long as you are civil to them, they will respect you in turn."

Velanna snorted.

"I will believe that when I see it, human," she huffed as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Velanna, I've been meaning to ask you…are you sure this is what you want?" Alyx asked the woman quietly.

"I said that it was, didn't I?" Velanna snapped at her, eyes narrowing.

"I only wish to offer you a way out if you are at all unsure. Once you take your joining, there is no turning back."

"Why?"

"That I cannot tell you until afterwards. You will just have to trust me on this."

"Look, human, I appreciate the thought, but I see no other path before me," Velanna began with a heavy sigh. "Those monsters killed my clan and took my sister. I—I realize that I may never see her again, but all I have left in this world is the hope that we may one day be reunited. Until then, I can use the abilities your order can grant me to take my vengeance out on the beasts responsible. Does that appease you?"

"Indeed it does," Alyx replied with a sad smile.

All of a sudden they were interrupted by a disturbance in the wood surrounding their small camp. Alyx looked up to see a falcon perched in a nearby tree, its intelligent eyes gleaming in the firelight as it gazed down at them.

"Tis strange to see such a creature out at this time of day. He's been following us for days now, you know," Velanna remarked.

"Yes, I did notice," Alyx murmured as she stared at her namesake.

"Don't you find it…odd?"

"I'd rather think of it as a good omen, personally," Alyx replied distractedly.

"Have it your way, human," Velanna replied with a dry chuckle as she stood to walk back to her tent. "Until the morrow…Commander."

"Good night, Velanna."

* * *

They broke camp early the next morning, heading out just as the sun had fully risen. The closer they grew to the keep, the higher the spirits of her companions. By mid-morning Oghren began to warble out a jaunty tune and amazingly the others not only let it pass uncommented, they even joined in when he chose more popular songs. Alyx surprised them all, though, when she united her lilting soprano with theirs when he chose a sweeping war ballad instead.

"I didn't know you could sing, Commander," Anders said, his eyes alight with astonishment.

"You never asked?" she replied, trying hard not to laugh at his expression.

"Ha ha, very funny, but seriously…is there anything you can't do?" he asked.

"Well…I can't cook to save my life, and that's putting it lightly. Nan tried to teach me once long ago at my mother's bidding, but after I nearly burned down the entire building she made me promise never to go anywhere near her kitchen again. _Boy_, was she ever mad!" Alyx said, laughing at the memory.

"I remember that," Nate said with a chuckle. "You could hear the woman screaming clear across the castle!"

"You remember—wait, you were _there_?"

"Yes. That was the last time I visited Highever, actually. Good old Nan. Her bark was always worse than her bight," he said, his brow furrowing. "I don't suppose she…?"

"No. She…no," Alyx replied hesitantly, her eyes closing against the sudden sorrow that washed over her. _Poor Nan, _she thought, her heart aching for her dear old friend.

"Ah. I'm sorry, Lex. I thought if anyone could make it out, it would be her."

An awkward silence fell after this statement, Nate and Alyx both shifting uncomfortably in their saddles.

"Way to ruin the mood, Howe," Anders mumbled, earning a glare from Nathaniel. "Sooo…Commander? How do you plan on spending the next few days?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"I suppose that decision is hinged upon how much paperwork Varel has to bury me under," she replied with a frown. "I swear that man spends his free time coming up with devious ways to keep me occupied."

"No doubt he is only doing his job," Nate commented offhandedly.

"Perhaps I should shackle _you_ to a desk for hours on end and see how _you_ like it, hmm?" she said sarcastically.

"I'll pass," he replied lightly, throwing her one of those rare smiles of his.

By then they had made it through the open gates of the Vigil and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. As they began to make their way through the courtyard together, Oghren swore colorfully and dived behind a pile of barrels.

"What the…?" Alyx began, but then noticed the angry dwarf that was stomping toward her, hands on her hips akimbo. "Felsi! What a pleasant surprise!" Alyx cried in mock pleasure.

"Where is he? I know he's here. Oghren! You get your hairy ass over here, _now_!" Felsi yelled.

"Hang on to yer beard, woman," Oghren growled as he stepped out from behind the barrels before plastering a toothy grin across his face. "Is this a conjugal visit? Lookin' for Oghren to grease the old wheel?"

"Don't lay a finger on me!" Felsi cried. "You've done a lot of stupid things on a whim, Oghren, but joining the wardens?

"Didn't ye say it would be hot?" Oghren replied with a snicker.

"We were _role-playing_!" Felsi screeched.

"And that's our cue to leave. Take your time Oghren!" Alyx called as she shooed the rest of them towards the keep.

"But it was just getting interesting!" Anders whined.

"Do you really want to be present when they kiss and make up?" Alyx asked him, a devious smile wreathing her lips.

"Eww, I _so_ did not need that imagery in my head. You are an evil, evil woman, you know that?" he replied.

"So I've been told," she replied nonchalantly.

"It is strange to think that anyone would wish to 'grease the old wheel' with the furry oaf let alone marry him," Anders continued. "She must be a formidable woman to put up with his drunken antidotes…let alone the smell."

"That she is my friend, and one who certainly deserves more than to be left without a word of explanation. I guess I just assumed that he was here with her blessing."

Anders snorted.

"We are talking about _Oghren_, aren't we?" he said dryly.

"Good point, but it still displeases me. I'm not one to jump in the middle of domestic disputes, but Oghren and I will have words about this, of that you can be sure," Alyx said with a heavy sigh as they entered the keep. "The rest of you are free to go, I'll call you when the Joining ceremony is prepared."

* * *

Nate had heard Alyx's dismissal…he simply chose to ignore it. She had promised to explain herself when they returned to the Vigil and _damn it_, she _was_ going to answer every last one of his questions. It did occur to him that cornering her just as soon as they arrived was probably a bad idea, but he found that he could wait no longer. He had spent the better part of the past week mulling over all the possible circumstances that would lead her to be in possession of Maric's signet ring…none of which were pleasant or even remotely feasible to his mind, but the fact that she was hiding something from them was gnawing away at his insides. After everything that they had been through together since the night of his conscription, Nate thought that she had finally learned to trust him. Yet it seemed that she still had her doubts, and it was slowly killing him from the inside out.

He wasn't the only one waiting for a private audience it seemed. Though Velanna had disappeared swiftly enough and Oghren was still, presumably, outside arguing with his wife, Anders followed close behind as they entered the great hall.

"Varel!" Alyx called warmly as the Senechal walked up to greet them.

"Welcome home, my Lady," Varel replied with an answering smile and a bow.

"Any pressing matters you've been waiting with bated breath to tell me about?" she asked, her smile turning slightly wicked.

"No, my Lady…well, there are some minor concerns, but nothing that can't wait till morning—"

"Good. Then I'll ask that you to have a Joining ritual prepared. We brought a new recruit home with us."

"Very well, Commander, but I think you ought to know—"

"And if you would let me know when everything is prepared, I wish to retire early this evening."

"Of course, but I have to inform you that—"

"Oh! And if you could have my supper sent to my rooms, I—what is it Varel? Speak up."

"You have visitors, my Lady," Varel said wearily.

"Well, why didn't you say so at once!" she replied impatiently.

"He would have if you gave the poor man half the chance to spit it out, my dear Alyxandria," a heavily accented voice replied as a slim form appeared from the shadows.

"Zevran!" Alyx cried, throwing herself into the arms of a blond elfin man clad in leather armor.

Nate disliked this 'Zevran' already. He didn't care for the intimate way he was looking at her, or how his foreign tongue rolled over the Commander's full name…as if he was _caressing_ it with every syllable. The name sounded familiar, but he could not recall from where. Had he met the man before this, he would be sure to have remembered the encounter. Everything about him screamed "dangerous".

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Antiva!" Alyx continued as she pulled back from the elf's affectionate embrace.

_Ah, then this is the Antivan Crow that taught her poisons, _Nate thought as he relaxed a little at this information.

"Ah, yes, that I was," Zevran began, his exotic accent already grating on Nate's nerves. "Unfortunately, things were getting a little too…heated, shall we say, for comfort. The crows truly have a bad habit of turning up in the most inconvenient places. Needless to say, I happened to find myself back in Fereldan, and as life is never boring around you, my delectable Warden, I thought to offer you my services. Of course when I reached Highever I was told of your relocation to Amaranthine, so here I am."

"Couldn't get enough darkspawn I take it?"

"The darkspawn I could certainly live without. Alas, I found that I could _not_ live another day without beholding that luscious bosom of yours. Indeed, it seems to have grown a life of its own since we last met. Alistair was a very lucky man to be able to gaze on such a bounty in all its glory whenever it pleased him to do so."

"And the _real _reason?"

"Although I _do_ enjoy staring at your bosom, my dear, you are correct in thinking this is not the only reason for my visit. I happened to pick up a job while I was in Highever, and although it is not nearly as exciting as saving the world from complete inhalation, it amused me to accept it. So you see, until I am discharged by my current employer, I am not free to slay darkspawn at your side."

"And this 'job' led you here? What _sort_ of job, Zevran?"

"There is no need to be concerned. I have no plans to assassinate anyone…unless you have need of such services, and then perhaps we should talk in private. No, I am simply acting as an escort. Speaking of which, I think there are some others here that wish to greet you, if I'm not mistaken. Never come empty-handed, the brothel mistress always told me…though I am thinking she meant it in another context, no?" Zevran replied, chuckling at his own perverse joke.

As the elf prattled on Nate saw a man that looked vaguely familiar and a pretty, petite red-headed woman step into the hall carrying a babe with golden ringlets within the circle of her arms. As the child twisted in the woman's grasp to get a better look around the room, he noticed several things at once: the child was undoubtedly a little girl, that she had a smudge of dirt across her pert little nose, and that one chubby little fist was shoved within her dainty mouth. She cautiously eyed Anders and himself with large, curious eyes, and then shifted her attention to the trio standing opposite of them. The moment the child's gaze fell upon Alyx, her eyes went wide with pure delight. Popping her fist out of her mouth the child screamed "Mama! Mama!"at the top of her small lungs before struggling to get down from the red-head's arms.

Alyx's head snapped around at the sound of the babe's voice. At first Nate thought he misunderstood, but then he heard Alyx's soft gasp and subsequent cry of joy as she crouched and threw her arms wide in welcome. The moment the little girl's feet hit the ground she launched herself at Alyx, nearly falling a time or two in her haste over the uneven stone. As soon as the small body crashed into hers Alyx embraced her tightly, tears of joy running down her face unchecked as she held her daughter close to her heart.

"Oh! My dearest, darling girl, how I _missed_ you!" she sobbed into the child's hair as she rocked her back and forth. She began dropping kisses into the girl's hair and then all over her chubby little face, causing the child to giggle infectiously.

"And what am I, hmm? Fresh nug droppings?" the redhead said saucily in a heavy Orlesian accent as she approached Alyx with a wide smile on her face.

"Leliana!" Alyx exclaimed as she stood and balanced the child in one arm so that she could embrace her friend with the other. "It is so good to see you! And…Arl Teagan…what a pleasant surprise."

"As it is good to see _you_, my Lady Cousland. You grow more beautiful with every passing day," the man replied eloquently as he bowed over her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

Nate snorted at the man's comment. In truth Alyx looked terrible, covered in a week's worth of dust and Maker knows what else, her eyes puffy from exhaustion and her face tear-streaked. _Arl Teagan indeed, _he thought with another inward snort. Since when was Teagan Guerrin an Arl? And why on bloody Thedas was he standing in _his_ home paying lip service to _his_ bloody commander?

"I was staying with your delightful family when they decided to visit Vigil's Keep. Your brother insisted that I come along, and I could hardly refuse when there was such company to be had," Teagan continued (_and with just the right amount of sheepishness_, Nate thought. _Bloody perfect_).

"Wait. Fergus is _here_?" Alyx gasped, her face going white.

"Not as of yet, dear-heart. He had to stay behind to take care of some business, but judging by his last missive we should expect to see him sometime tomorrow morning," Leliana replied.

"His last missive? Exactly how long ago did you arrive?" Alyx asked.

"Only a few days ago, but it was worth it just to see the look on your face." Leliana said, a wicked smile playing over her lips. Alyx stuck her tongue out at Leliana, who giggled behind her hand at her expression.

"Now! Tell me, Leli, why are you here?"

"I cannot visit my favorite sister-in-law?" Leliana pouted.

"You're my _only_ sister-in-law! Now stop avoiding the question."

_Fergus remarried? When did that happened? And to an Orlesian of all things! _Nate thought. _The Landsmeet must have had a field day with that one. _

"It was Wynne's idea, actually. She wrote to me, you know. Said that she saw you in Amaranthine—"

"And then decided what was best for me, just as she always has," Alyx interjected with a frown.

"She only does so because she cares. She worries about you, dear one. We all do."

Alyx's frown intensified as she considered the Orlesian's words, then a polite mask fell over her features as she turned to speak to her other two guests.

"If you would excuse me gentlemen? It's been a long trip and I find myself in need of a hot meal and a bath."

Both Teagan and Zevran bowed in acknowledgment, though Teagan took the opportunity to kiss her hand once again.

"I trust I will see you at the evening meal, my Lady?" he murmured as he gave her a slow, pointed smile. Alyx blinked at him, but nodded in affirmation before he turned on his heal to leave the hall, the heels of his boots clicking on the stone in perfect cadence. Alyx immediately grabbed Leliana's arm to keep the woman from running.

"Come. Talk with me while I clean up," she requested, though Nate could hear the subtle command behind her words. So did Leliana if the look on her face was any indication. Yet when Alyx turned her attention to the little girl in her arms, her expression softened once again. "It looks like you could use a washing as well, my love. Would you like to help Mama in her bath?" she asked the child, causing the little girl to erupt into another peel of bell-like laughter.

Nate blinked, thinking how strange it was to hear such words drop from Alyx's lips and yet how natural it seemed at the same time. The babe in her arms was her daughter…_her daughter _for Maker's sake! That's when it truly hit home. Little Lexy…_his _Lexy, was a _mother._

He watched as the small entourage made its way up the stairs, Alyx too busy murmuring nonsensicals to the child in her arms to look back at the two Wardens left standing in the middle of the hall with identical expressions of astonishment written across their faces.

"I…have I gone completely mad or did I just witness a little girl throw herself into Falcon's arms and call her Mama?" Anders breathed finally.

"It seems that the Commander has been holding out on us," Nate replied as his jaw set at a stubborn angle.

"Why would she keep something like this from us?" Anders cried angrily. "I mean, it's a _child_ not a pet darkspawn! Besides, I thought she said that the taint made it impossible for a Grey Warden to have children. Did she lie about that too?"

"I believe the phrasing she used was 'nearly impossible,' Anders, though it does not set well with me either," Nate replied.

"If you would allow me, gentlemen," Zevran interjected as he approached them. "Have you ever known Falcon to do anything without cause?"

"Well, no…" Anders began as he eyed the elf speculatively.

"Then perhaps you should give her the benefit of a doubt, no?" Zevran continued as he clasped his hands behind him. "Knowing Falcon…as I assure you, I _do_…unless she has reason to distrust you, she likely planned to tell you all…eventually. As it is, only a handful of people in all of Fereldan are aware of the babe's existence, for reasons that will no doubt be explained to you in good time. Now, with that being said, a word of warning. Should news of this spread beyond these walls, nothing in all of Thedas would save you from Alyxandria's wrath…as Wardens I am assuming that you have an idea of what she is capable of?" Both men gulped and nodded in comprehension. "Then we understand each other? Very good. I did not think that she would conscript men who could not recognize a threat when they hear one."

"So you won't tell us anything?" Anders asked him.

"I could…but this is neither the time nor the place. Now, if you would excuse me, I could not possibly pass up the chance to spy on our delectable Warden-Commander while she is in her bath."

Nate opened his mouth to say something smart in return, but the elf had already melted back into the shadows. He didn't trust the slippery assassin, but Alyx obviously did or he would not be here.

"What'd I miss?" Oghren grunted as he walked into the hall.

"Apparently Falcon has some visitors…one of them being the daughter she never told us she had," Anders said blandly.

"The Lil' Nugget's here?" Oghren asked with a surprised chuckle. "Didn't think she'd want the kid anywhere near while there's still darkspawn runnin' around."

"You _knew _about her?" Anders cried. "Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

Oghren shuffled his feet nervously as he eyed the two of them wearily.

"Aye, I knew. But it wasn't my secret te tell. B'sides, she'd be wearin' my man bits as jewelry if I had," he replied.

"For something that is apparently _such_ a big secret it seems that everyone around here knows what's going on except _us_, that is," Anders said dryly. "But all I want to know is _why_ for the Maker's sake! And if you say 'all in good time' I'll have to hurt you."

"Take it easy, sparkles! She was gonna tell ye. Heard her say so me'self. But she wanted to do it on her own terms. Didn't think it would be so sodding soon to be honest."

"Yes, well, it wasn't exactly her choice. Her friends sort of just showed up with the kid in toe," Anders replied moodily. "Andraste's tits! Can you even believe it! Falcon's a…a…"

"Mother?" Oghren supplied.

"Yes. That's it exactly."

"And I suppose that changes the way the wind is blowin', eh, mage?" Oghren bristled with a malevolent grimace.

"What? No! It's just…I'm just…having a hard time wrapping my head around it is all."

"Yeah? Well that's just peachy. You wanna know what's goin' on? Give her some time alone with her kid and when she's ready to talk she'll come to you. Jest…take it easy on her when she does. She's got enough te worry about without you two muckin' it up with yer sodding mood swings," Oghren growled.

For his part Nate was still in shock. There were no words to describe the multitude of emotions that were running through his heart and mind at this sudden discovery. He was confused and hurt, but mostly angry that she didn't feel the need to tell them that against all odds, she had conceived a child. A child that was, for all intents and purposes, something of a miracle. For he had no doubt in his mind that Alistair was the father. Somehow through the haze he could still see the unmitigated joy on Alyx's face at the moment of her reunion with her daughter, and could honestly say he never saw anything more beautiful in his life than that one instant of pure happiness on her face. In all the years that he'd known her, he had _never_ seen her so happy. Yet the strain about her eyes and in the tight set of her shoulders told an entirely different story. Why keep this a secret? And why did he feel suddenly foolish for not seeing it all along?

"Oghren?"

"Howe?" the dwarf grunted.

"Can you at least tell me the child's name?" he found himself asking.

"Aye, now _t__hat_ I can tell you. Her name is Jocelyn."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds" by Anne Dudley (10th Kingdom OST); "The Return of the King" by Howard Shore (Return of the King OST). _


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 - Jocelyn**

For the first time in years the infectious laughter of a child could be heard spilling from the open windows of the family quarters of the Vigil. The afternoon held a sense of warmth and happiness as the mid-day light streamed into Alyx's room along with the scent of honeysuckle clinging to the moist sea air. Mother and daughter shared a bath brimming with lightly-scented suds that made Jocelyn squeal with delight. Alyx chuckled as she watched her child slap at the soapy water with her pudgy little hands, splashing water in every direction. The maids would be put out when they discovered the mess, but it was worth it to see her daughter enjoying herself so.

After a brief power struggle Alyx was able to get Jocelyn clean before handing her off to Leliana, who gently wrapped the babe in a large fluffy towel before plopping her down in her lap. Jocelyn was cooing and chortling as she occupied herself by playing with a tassel dangling from Leliana's shawl. Alyx let out a long sigh of contentment as she settled back into the soapy water and closed her eyes in pleasure.

"You know, I should strangle every one of you for even _thinking _of bringing her here," she said to Leliana, who was sitting in an armchair across from the tub. "It isn't safe to travel with the darkspawn on the move."

"You say that like you don't know your brother would send a full complement of men as protection, though it _is_ rather a short trip, no? And why do you suppose I hired Zevran to escort us as well? It wasn't because of his pretty looks. Between the two of us we've slain nearly as many darkspawn as you have," Leliana replied flippantly.

"That is beside the point!" Alyx spat, her spine stiffening as she glared at her sister-in-law with indignation. The anger that had been simmering just under the surface since their arrival finally reached its breaking point with Leliana's dismissive attitude. "It isn't safe here! The darkspawn have already attacked the Vigil once, what's to stop them from doing so again? I have precious little men; I cannot afford to post a contingent by my daughter's side at all times and I certainly cannot stay at the keep when duty calls me elsewhere. This is _precisely_ why I left her in _Highever_…in _your _care…to begin with!" Alyx seethed as she glanced up at the ceiling, fighting back the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes. She would _not _break down in front of her daughter. "Jocelyn is my _life_, Leliana. If I ever were to lose her…"

"And just what do you think is going to happen to her, hmm? She is surrounded by those who love her, who would die for her if necessary. But…perhaps there is something in what you say. Perhaps I misjudged the situation. I had no idea things were so complicated for you here. Maybe...maybe we should have written you first. It's just...Wynne's missive...and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to... I could only think of how wonderful it would be to surprise you, and how you must be missing your little one," Leliana replied as her chin went up a stubborn notch despite her tentative words.

Alyx sighed.

"I'm sorry, Leliana. I know you meant well, and I _am_ glad to see you," she said finally, shooting her dearest friend a look of apology before turning her gaze back to her child. Her eyes softened as she studied Jocelyn's small form, so very familiar and dear, yet somehow different.

"How she's grown since I last saw her! What are you feeding her, Leli?"

Leliana giggled girlishly.

"Nothing more than I suspect other children eat. Besides, aren't they supposed to grow? Or do you think you can keep her a babe forever?"

"It's not that, it's just…you don't know how very hard it's been, Leli! Being apart from her; wondering if she's alright, if she's happy or sad, if she misses me, if she's even thinking of me_…_She's growing so fast and learning new things every day. Though it is as it should be, I'm missing it! How much bigger will she be the next time I see her? What if she doesn't even _recognize_ me by then?"

"That will not happen, dear-heart. You will find a way to defeat these darkspawn soon enough, and then she will be back here with you to stay."

"How do you know that? It took us more than a year to crush the blight, and these darkspawn are different. They're intelligent, Leli, and we've only just begun to discover the extent of what they're capable of."

"Hmm, that _is_ disconcerting, but I trust in your abilities, as do your people," Leliana proclaimed. "You are a born leader, ma petite. If anyone can finish this, you can."

"So no pressure right? Great. That's just _wonderful_," Alyx replied sarcastically before relaxing once again against the back of the tub, her arms stretched comfortably along the sides. "Now…do you care explaining to me exactly _why_ Teagan is here?"

"I think you already know the answer to that question," Leliana replied carefully, producing a shrug from Alyx.

"It wouldn't be the first time a man used a familial or social connection, no matter how remote, to pay me favor."

"That is hardly fair, Falcon! The Arl is a good man…one, I might add, who has come to respect and admire you over the years," Leliana cried.

"You of all people should know that there is quite a difference between admiration and love."

"That may be true, but admiration can certainly turn into love with time. Will you not even consider the match? He not only knows of Jocelyn, he has a great deal of affection for the child. What's more, he is willing to raise her as his own. The protection his name alone could afford the both of you should certainly make it worth your while," Leliana continued.

"Yet it is not reason enough to commit myself to him for the rest of my life! It would not be fair to him, Leliana. He needs a sweet, biddable woman who could give him children of his own, not to mention the whole-hearted affection that he deserves. You know as well as I do that even were I not a Grey Warden I could never have any more children after the complications of Jocelyn's birth. What's more, if it came down to staying with him at Redcliffe or doing my duty as a Warden, I would choose the Wardens every time. He would end up resenting me or worse."

"You don't know that."

"But I do," Alyx replied with a heavy sigh. "I'm assuming his presence here means Fergus approves?"

"Why should he not? Teagan is a dear friend of your brother's and, may I remind you, considered quite the catch. He has lands and title of his own, is a well respected voice in the Landsmeet and has more than proven himself on the battlefield. Surely you can see why Fergus would wish you to marry him?"

"I am neither in need of protection or affluence. My oaf of a brother needs to learn how to keep his bloody nose out of my personal life!" Alyx snapped in frustration.

"He forgets that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, let alone Jocelyn. He is doomed to forever see you as the little girl with skinned knees and pigtails that used to follow him about, not as the competent woman who kills darkspawn for a living."

That made Alyx chuckle. She knew Leliana's words to be true, but her brother could be insufferable sometimes...more so as they shared the same mile-wide stubborn streak, not to mention the infamous Cousland temper. Arguments between the siblings had never been dull to say the least. Yet despite their differences Fergus had always been protective of her, a quality that had intensified since their reunion after the blight. She knew why, but it didn't make it any less suffocating.

"I know Fergus can be overbearing at times," Leliana said, as if picking the thought directly from Alyx's mind. "But I assure you, he only wishes for your happiness. You and Jocelyn are the only family he has left, and he worries for you both. After all, he nearly lost you during the blight and then again in childbirth mere months after you were reunited."

"He has you too Leli," Alyx replied, smiling warmly at the former bard.

"That he does, though the bonds of blood and the bonds of marriage are two entirely different things, no?" she replied with an answering smile. "Please give poor Teagan a chance. You may be surprised at the outcome..._unless_…there is another you are considering…"she continued slyly, a wicked grin spreading her lips.

"Maker, no! Honestly, Leli, I have no interest in marriage or in forming an attachment with anyone. I've far more important things to worry about than my love life," Alyx replied.

"But surely you wish to find love again someday? I know you yet mourn Alistair, but you cannot spend the rest of your days grieving his loss…right? Right Falcon?_ Falcon!" _Leliana cried when Alyx did not answer her, but before she could reply, Zevran waltzed into the room as if he owned the place. Leliana gasped.

_"Zevran!_ Just what do you think you're doing? Get out of here at once!"

"Relax, Leli. Zev's seen far more of me than this…though if I recall correctly the last time was a mistake...or so he tells me," Alyx said nonchalantly, undisturbed by the elf's appearance in her quarters. "Besides, he knows better than to cop a feel. He wouldn't be conscious long enough to enjoy it."

"You wound me! But…'tis true enough," Zevran said with a shrug before taking a seat next to Leliana. He immediately leaned over to tease Jocelyn, who cooed and patted him on the cheek.

"Ah, I see that your daughter not only inherited your impeccable beauty, my dear Warden, but your ease of charm with the opposite sex as well."

"Just what are you implying, Zev?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Do not think I didn't notice the three men downstairs who were staring at you as if the meaning to life, the universe, and everything could be found between those luscious thighs of yours…four if I am to be included," Zevran replied with a lascivious smile.

"_Three _men?" Alyx exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Well, let's see," he began, ticking off the names on his fingers as he continued. "There's the Arl of Redcliffe…of course…and the two delicious specimens of manhood that walked in with you. You know…the rakish looking mage and Mr. Tall-dark-and-serious with the bow strapped to his back. I had wondered if either of them was single and of the more…adventurous nature, but then of course I noticed that their attention lay elsewhere. And might I say that it is quite cruel of you to hog the attentions of every available and handsome man in the vicinity. "

"Don't be ridiculous! I'm not hogging _anything_…and Anders and Nate are merely friends and comrades. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Ah. I see that some things never change," Zevran replied in barely contained mirth.

"What on Thedas are you talking about Zevran?" she grumbled.

_"You_, my dear, are one of the most observant people I have ever met…until it concerns your personal life and then you're as a blind man trying to understand color."

Alyx opened her mouth and then closed it again. She thought of Nate and Anders and wondered if there was something to Zevran's words, if one or both of them had a deeper interest in her…but then dismissed it out of hand. _What utter rubbish! _She grumbled to herself.

"You didn't just come up here to talk about my love life…or lack thereof as it were—" she began.

"Which, as I was trying to tell you, is easily rectified," Zevran interrupted, earning a scowl from Alyx. "Okay! Fine, I get it. You wish to lead the celibate life like a cloistered sister though it is a shame, really, considering the noises that would drift from your tent late at night," he continued, teeth flashing as he beamed at her. "Either you are quite the passionate woman or our Alistair was exceptionally talented."

Alyx blushed furiously as she slumped further into the cooling bath water.

"You are an evil, evil man," she muttered.

Zevran and Leliana both chuckled, obviously deriving great pleasure from her embarrassment.

"At any rate, I had something to ask you, if I may," Zevran said once he was able to control his amusement. Alyx waved for him to continue. "I am curious…why did you not tell your men about Jocelyn?"

Alyx sighed, running a hand through her wet hair.

"I planned on telling them, but not until after we took care of this whole darkspawn mess. Did you talk to them? Were they very angry?" she asked him nervously.

"They were not pleased to say the least, but I think they were more confused than anything."

"What did you tell them?"

"Only that you had reason to keep Jocelyn a secret and that they were never to speak of it. I could be wrong, but if you wish for their cooperation, should they not know why?"

"Yes, you're right. Of course you're right," she replied, sighing once again. "To be honest I wasn't quite sure _how_ to tell them. I mean, it's not like I could just pull them aside and say, 'Hey, you know everything I told you about wardens not being able to have children? Guess what, apparently I'm an exception.' And 'Oh, by the way, you can't tell anybody?'"

"It would have been a start," Leliana replied, earning a glare from Alyx for her trouble. "Do they even know of Alistair?"

"Oghren told them of my involvement with him but beyond that and his being a warden, I'm not really sure what they know. Nate has been living in the Free Marches for the past decade and Anders told me that he was in solitary confinement during most of the blight. They have surprisingly little knowledge of that time beyond the slaying of the archdemon."

"Hmm, that would explain a lot, actually," Zevran murmured as he rubbed his chin in thought. "They are trustworthy I assume?"

"I wasn't sure at first…especially Nate considering our history, but they have more than proven their loyalty since then. I trust them implicitly," Alyx replied.

"Which one is Nate?" Leliana asked.

"Zev's 'tall-dark-and-serious' one."

"And you have a history with him? Hmm, interesting, _do_ tell," Zevran replied, his eyes gleaming with wickedness.

"Not _that_ sort of history, Zev. He's a Howe."

_"What?" _both Zevran and Leliana cried at the same time.

"Calm Down! He's nothing like his father," she said, quickly explaining the circumstances of Nathaniel's conscription to them as well as the events leading up to their reconciliation. By then her friends had calmed though Zevran still looked speculative.

"Trustworthy or no, Fergus isn't going to like it," Leliana stated bluntly.

"Maker's breath, _Fergus!" _Alyx gasped as she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. How could she have forgotten that her brother would be arriving in the morning? "Oh, he is going to be _livid_ when he finds out!"

"Do not worry, ma petite. I'll speak with him first, smooth things over before he notices your Nathaniel's presence," Leliana said soothingly.

"I'll speak to Nathaniel myself. See if he can keep a low profile until after my brother's arrival," Alyx replied distractedly, her thoughts drifting. "They were friends once," she murmured, her gaze distant as memories flooded her mind; vivid images of two lanky teenage boys with boundless energy and spirit. They had been inseparable until Nate had been sent away. "I hope Fergus will remember that when the time comes."

By then Alyx's bath had grown cold. She had Zevran turn around so she could climb out of the tub and quickly dry off before donning her robe, cinching it tightly at the waist. She moved quickly across the room, pulling the bell call before turning to the desk in the corner to jot down a quick note. By the time she finished a maid had entered.

"Take this note to the kitchen, let Mistress Sophia know that I'd like a private supper to be set after the guards and castle staff have finished in the dining hall. Then have my guests and the wardens informed that they are to meet me in the study one hour prior," she told the maid, who took the note and curtseyed before leaving the room.

"I think you should wear one of the outfits I brought you, Falcon," Leliana said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"But they're all dresses!" Alyx exclaimed.

"Exactly! Not only is it appropriate for the occasion, it would show off that tiny waist of yours that you insist on hiding behind all that armor. Ooh! You should wear the blue one! It matches your eyes to perfection. You would have all the men drooling at the very sight of you!"

"Leliana, I don't _want_ them to be drooling over me!" Alyx whined.

"Oh, _please_ Falcon! It took me hours to pick out the material for those gowns. It would make me _ever_ so happy if you wore one of them tonight!" Leliana pleaded as she batted her eyelashes at her. "You could consider it a favor to your most beloved friend and sister."

"Oh, very well," she groaned. "But you owe me...just so you know."

"Oh,_ thank _you Falcon! You won't regret it!" Leliana cried, clapping her hands in delight.

_I already regret it, _Alyx thought.

"You should wear your mother's earrings, the ones Fergus found before you left for Amaranthine."

"The sapphires? It's just _supper_, Leli, not a grand ball," Alyx grumbled.

"Oh alright, I see your point. Ooh! I have a lovely pair of hand-stitched slippers that would be just brilliant with that belt. I'll lend them to you," Leliana continued excitedly.

Alyx sighed and waved her hand in resignation.

"And you'll let me do your hair?" Leliana asked.

"Now you're pushing it," Alyx snapped.

* * *

"So what do you suppose this meeting's about?" Anders asked Nate some time later as they walked to the study together. "I mean, it can't have anything to do with warden matters as Falcon's guests will be there too."

"It's not a meeting, Anders, its drinks," Nate replied wearily. "It's a common practice amongst the upper-crust when they have company."

"But then why are _we_ included?" he asked curiously.

"Haven't the foggiest, mage. Just try to enjoy it," Nate replied dryly.

"And what of Velanna's joining?" Anders continued.

"No doubt the Commander will let us know when it is time," Nate said with a sigh before pushing open the heavy oaken door that led into the study.

The moment they walked into the room Nate's gaze immediately focused on the figure in the center of the room. His heart shuddered to a stop. Alyx was curled up in front of the fire, her daughter cradled in her lap. She wore a vivid, cerulean gown that clung to her curves in all the right places and pooled about her feet in soft waves. A single, thick silver cord was tied about her waist, matching the intricate stitching in the bodice and hem of the dress. Her hair was plated into a single thick braid carelessly tossed over one shoulder, the firelight catching and enhancing the more subtle hues of red and gold liberally streaked through the thick locks. Her expression was warm and open, her dark head bent close to Jocelyn's golden one as the child fingered the amulet around her mother's neck. Nate had never seen her look so soft and feminine as she did at that very moment. He swallowed hard as he allowed himself for just an instant to imagine that this was _his_ study, that the child in her arms was _his_ daughter, and that she was _his_ woman...that the smile playing across her lips was for him and him alone. His heart ached at the mere thought…and then the words she was murmuring to the child began to register through the haze of his imaginings.

"…this was your papa's amulet. His mother…your grandmother…who went to the Maker when papa was just your age...gave it to him, and in return he gave it to me. One day, it will belong to you," she said to the child, who stared up at her in awe.

The little girl broke into a wide grin as she patted the amulet and cried "Papa!" in her small, lilting voice.

"That's right, Joce. Papa's," Alyx replied with a chuckle.

Nate's jaw tightened as he came crashing back down to earth. Not his study, not his woman, and certainly not his child.

Glancing to his right he saw that Oghren was sitting with Zevran and Leliana, eyes already glazed over with drink as he chatted animatedly with his former companions. Leliana was listening with great interest, but Nate had apparently caught Zevran's attention. Something in his expression must have betrayed his wandering thoughts, because the former assassin was staring at him speculatively.

Turning his attention back to the center of the room, Nate noticed Arl Teagan leaning comfortably against the hearth with a snifter of brandy cradled between his long, perfectly manicured fingers. The man looked all the world as if he owned the place and everything in it. Nate bristled at his easy countenance and steady, hooded gaze. He held no illusions as to why the Arl was here. Had he not already figured it out, the look in the other man's eyes when he gazed upon Alyx would certainly have laid that particular query to rest. Teagan wanted her, desperately, and no doubt he had Fergus Cousland's whole-hearted blessing.

Just then Alyx looked up and spotted them in the doorway, her smile widening in welcome.

"Come in gentlemen. We were just getting started," she called as she stood, her smile never wavering. "May I introduce to you my daughter, Jocelyn," she continued as she crossed the room to join them.

Nate froze. _How does one greet a child? _He thought frantically. He had little experience with children in his life, and had no idea how to react. Luckily Anders saved him from responding.

"My Lady Jocelyn," Anders said gallantly with a deep bow, making the little girl giggle. She eyed the mage, her eyes widening when she spied the gold hoop in his ear.

"Pretty!" she cooed as she reached for the earring. Anders chuckled, bending to look the little girl in the eye.

"I agree. A pretty trinket from a pretty lady," Anders murmured as he shot a loaded look at Alyx, who blushed in return. Clearing her throat she turned and waved at Teagan who smiled as he crossed the room to her side.

"This is Teagan Guerrin, the Arl of Redcliffe. He has been a constant friend to the Cousland family," she continued. "My Lord? May I present to you Warden Anders and Warden Nathaniel?"

"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you both, though I believe Nathaniel and I have formally been acquainted. I hadn't realized you had returned to Fereldan, Howe. My Lady Cousland is lucky to have such a fine archer amongst her ranks," Teagan said with a courteous bow.

"Is she indeed?" Nathaniel murmured, eyeing Teagan speculatively.

The other man colored, realizing a moment too late that they had moved into a potentially hazardous topic of conversation. Clearing his throat he continued cautiously.

"Though I must admit that I was not a fan of the late Arl, I have never had any qualms with the rest of your family. I was grieved to hear of your dear mother's fate, though I am glad your sister is alive and doing well. From what Alyxandria has told me, you are an honorable man and a credit to your family. Far be it from me to judge you by your father's misdeeds."

_Ever the diplomat, eh Guerrin? _Nate thought, as he nodded in acknowledgment. He wanted to despise the man with every fiber of his being, but then Teagan had to go and be so dreadfully _genuine_. _Disgusting really_, he thought to himself. Alyx's voice snapped him back out of his thoughts.

"…And sitting with Oghren are two of my dearest friends. The cheeky looking fellow in the corner is Zevran," who simply nodded his head in their direction, "And my sister-in-law Leliana Cousland, Teryna of Highever."

Leliana stood and crossed the room to greet them, a warm and welcoming smile lighting up her face.

"Your Grace," Anders murmured with a polite bow.

"Please, just call me Leliana," she replied warmly before turning to greet Nate in turn.

Leliana was watching him with great interest as he kissed her fingertips in the Orlesian fashion. It made him wonder what exactly she and Alyx had been talking about all afternoon. Though his court manners were rusty, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to use them. If Fergus was truly due to arrive in the morning, it certainly wouldn't hurt to have a friend in his wife. He flashed his most charming grin at her and was amused to see her eyes widen in surprise. "I wasn't aware Fergus remarried. My condolences."

Leliana giggled coquettishly, her expression taking on a more devious quality. _Ah, she knows the game well, _he thought as he recognized the signs of a master.

"Dare I ask how my bombastic former friend was able to catch a rare beauty such as yourself?"

"It is more that _I_ caught _him_," she replied with a saucy smile. "I could not have my first choice of Couslands, so I told myself: why not have the next best thing? After all, brother and sister are very much alike are they not?"

"I hope you didn't tell him that, Leli!" Alyx gasped, stifling a laugh.

"But of course I did, and I remind him of it when I think he needs his nose tweaked!" Leliana replied.

At first Nate thought the woman must be joking, but the subtle glance she shot Alyx made him reconsider. He raised an eyebrow at her in question and she winked at him knowingly. _Hmm, _he thought, gaining a greater appreciation for the woman standing before him. It seemed that there was far more to Leliana than what meets the eye.

"So tell us Commander, where's our oh-so-affable new recruit?" Anders asked jovially as he and Nate sat on a settee situated by the fire as the rest of the party resumed their previous places.

"Velanna has decided to spend her time before the Joining in meditation," Alyx replied.

"And here I thought she might have headed for the hills. Shame that," he replied sarcastically, earning a warning glare from Alyx.

"We cannot turn people away based on whether or not you like them, Anders," she told him.

"Damn! And here I thought we could add it to the recruiting posters. Join the Wardens! Must like mages!" he replied.

"Is he always like this?" Zevran asked from his corner of the room.

"Yes," Nate, Oghren and Alyx muttered all at the same time.

"So, when will said Joining be?" Anders continued, ignoring the commentary, but Nate never heard her answer.

Jocelyn had been eyeing him for some time but he had been trying to ignore the little girl's curious gaze. She had left her mother's arms and was standing next to her with a thumb stuck in her mouth. She took a couple of cautious steps towards him, stopped, and then repeated the process until she was standing directly in front of him. If Alyx was paying any attention to her daughter's actions she didn't seem concerned, for she continued her conversation without so much as a glance in their direction. He eyed the child wearily as she climbed up onto the settee between himself and Anders, and then froze as she proceeded to plop herself into his lap.

Jocelyn stood on his thighs and stared directly into his eyes with the same intense blue gaze of her mothers. She screwed up her face as she reached up and squished his cheeks between her chubby little hands.

"Grumpy!" she pronounced in her high-pitched lisp, though it came out more like _gwum-pee_.

All conversation around him died at the sound of her small voice. Nate could only stare at the child in shock.

"I suppose I am at that," he finally said to Jocelyn, bending his face closer to hers. "But little girls who disrespect their elders must be punished accordingly."

Jocelyn's eyes widened at that but she didn't back down from her stance.

"Do you know what the sentence for insolence is, Jocelyn?" he continued, keeping his expression somber. Jocelyn shook her head, her eyes growing bigger by the moment. "Death…by tickle!" he pronounced as he dug his fingers into her ribs.

Jocelyn screeched in delight, crying "more!more!" as he dangled her upside-down over his legs. The others collectively let out a sigh of relief, a few of them even chuckling.

_What, did they think I would actually punish the child? _He thought. _I'm not a monster! _Though admittedly such a reaction was not _that_ surprising…considering who _his_ father was.

When she tired of the game, Jocelyn curled her small body tightly against his stomach and continued to suck her thumb. Nate sat there numbly wondering exactly what he was supposed to do with his arms, but finally decided to wrap them loosely around the little girl, who sighed in contentment as she snuggled in closer.

"It looks like you've made a new friend there, Howe," Anders said in amusement.

"So it seems," he murmured as he stared down at the child in his arms. Her eyes were hooded and slowly closing as she began to drift to sleep. Her hand was curled around one of his fingers and he couldn't help but notice how very tiny she was in comparison to him. He drank in all of her small features, noting the way her eyelashes fanned out across her rosy cheeks and how her pert little nose turned up ever so slightly at the end. Her features were Alyx's in miniature, and so beautiful that it nearly took his breath away.

"Maker's breath, Lex, she looks just like you," he said as he looked up at Alyx in wonder.

"So I've been told. It seems I'm the only one who sees anything of her father in her," she murmured as she gazed wistfully at her daughter.

Alyx glanced up at Nate and for a fleeting moment their eyes connected. There was something soft and questioning in her gaze, something that he couldn't quite interpret, but it made his heart flutter all the same. He had to say something, _anything, _before the moment passed.

Suddenly the study door swung open and a tall man with a long, loose-legged stride walked into the room. His very presence filled the chamber, commanding the attention of every eye. His bearing was that of a man used to getting his way, marking him as a noble though his armor was unadorned and his hands were as calloused as any working man's. It took only a glance for Nate to recognize him though it had been years since they last met. For few could exude such a degree of self-confidence without being outright narcissistic. Indeed, beyond King Maric himself, he could recall only one family that had perfected the balance between Maker-given authority and unaffected altruism with such ease.

Fergus Cousland had arrived.

* * *

***Muse Tunes:**_ "Anakin and Padme" by John Williams (Attack of the Clones OST); "The Princess Pleads for Wallace's Life" by James Horner (Braveheart OST); "Sibylla" by Harry Gregson-Williams (Kingdom of Heaven OST). _


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 – Promises & Betrayals**

Everyone in the study simultaneously held their breath as Fergus stopped just inside the doorway, the smug smile on his face melting as his gaze landed on Nathaniel. Curiosity quickly turned to rage, his face turning an alarming shade of red as his hands shook with the intensity of his emotions.

"Get your bloody hands of my niece you traitorous bastard!" he bellowed, effectively startling Jocelyn awake.

"Oh good job," Anders muttered sarcastically as the little girl wailed in protest.

Alyx jumped to her feet and crossed the room to calm her daughter with a gentle brush of her fingers. She murmured a few low, comforting words before turning to shoot her brother a scathing look.

"_Damnit_, Alyx—" Fergus growled as he stalked towards them like a panther on the prowl.

"Fergus, _stop_," she hissed, halting his progress with a hand to his chest. "If you would just let me explain—" but Fergus was beyond listening.

"Just what the bloody _hell_ is _he_ doing here? And for the love of the Maker someone take Jocelyn away from him!"

"Nate, stay right where you are. Fergus, other room. _Now_," Alyx demanded with a shove to his chest to punctuate her point.

At first Fergus simply glared at her, but after a tense moment he acquiesced. He stormed after her into the adjoining room, slamming the door smartly behind him. In fact he slammed it so hard the door popped back open again, just far enough for the rest of them to hear every word of the sibling's argument.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? Letting a Howe into your home after all that we've been through? And just what are you thinking allowing _my niece_ anywhere near the traitorous bastard?" Fergus shouted.

"Spare me the dramatics, Fergus. Nathaniel is no traitor and _my_ _daughter_ is perfectly safe with him. Do you honestly believe that I would put my child in danger? Do you really have so little faith in me?" Alyx spat back.

"It's not _you_ that I am concerned about! His father had our entire family slaughtered, or have you already forgotten that?"

"Precisely. His _father_, Fergus. Nathaniel had nothing to do with it. He wasn't even in the same country for Maker's sake, and yet you blame him for that which he could not possibly be responsible for!"

_"He is a Howe!"_ Fergus bellowed, as if that single word was the very essence of evil incarnate.

Nate inwardly winced, cursing his father's iniquity for perhaps the thousandth time. He knew that seeing Fergus wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't expected such stark vehemence from his former friend. He could admit to himself that he thought Fergus the man would turn out to be the same affable, tolerant boy he had known all those years ago, but it was obvious that the loss of his family and the hardships of war had scarred him, changed him…just as Nate's time in the Free Marches had fundamentally changed _him_. He strained to hear the rest of the argument, praying that Alyx would somehow be able to convince her brother to see reason.

"This is _my_ home Fergus, and _my_ men. What I say goes, and what I say is that he belongs here," Alyx snapped.

"Arlessa you may be, but _I_ am your Overlord and ultimately what _I_ say goes. I say he leaves, Alyx, the sooner the better," Fergus replied, a smug tone in his voice.

"Dirty pool, Fergus, and you know it. Besides, he is a Grey Warden and as such, out of bounds. You have no power over him."

"You made him a _warden?"_ Fergus sputtered. "Why the bloody hell would you do such a thing?"

"Because it is what he is meant to be!" she yelled, her voice echoing off the walls before the room was filled with an icy silence. Nate's heart skipped a beat. "Look, I'm not asking you to renew your friendship with him. I'm not even asking you to like him, just…give him a chance Fergus, I beg you. Nate has proven himself to be an honorable and loyal man both to me and to the Order. He deserves a chance to reclaim his good name, and I have given it to him in good faith. I trust him with my life, as do the others. He wouldn't be here otherwise," Alyx said, her voice clear and definite.

"Oh, _Nate_ is it? Honorable and loyal is it? I see what's going on now. You're _fucking_ him, aren't you?" Fergus spat in accusation, his tone clipped and harsh.

A sharp _thwack_ cracked through the room. Nate's eyes widened in surprise. There was no way he could know for sure, but it sounded as if Alyx just slapped her brother, and hard judging by the sound.

"That degrades us both," she said in a low, dangerous tone.

"Alyx, I—" Fergus began.

_"No!_ I'm through listening to your inane arguments!" Alyx snapped, voice shaking with rage. "I neither wish to see or speak to you until you are able to at least _pretend_ to be courteous. If you can't even do that then you might as well turn around and bloody well go back to Highever!"

Yet another strained silence followed this last statement. Nate was beginning to wonder what was going on in the next room when the door began to open. Everyone quickly turned their heads away as if they hadn't been listening to every word with bated breath, but not quick enough for Fergus not to notice. He glared at them all, setting his jaw at a stubborn angle and proudly squaring his shoulders despite the angry red mark blooming on his left cheek. Without a word he stormed across the room, slamming the study door behind him. When he was gone Alyx slipped back inside, her face pale and drawn, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm sorry you all had to witness that," she said softly.

Leliana immediately jumped to her feet and crossed the room to console her sister-in-law, squeezing her arm lightly in reassurance.

"Do not worry, ma petite. He'll come 'round in time, just wait and see," Leliana cooed soothingly.

"Do you wish me to go speak with him?" Arl Teagan offered gallantly.

"I appreciate the offer Teagan, but my brother won't listen to anyone in this mood," Alyx replied with a wobbly half-smile.

Teagan bowed his head in acknowledgment, his own mouth tilting up into a small, meaningful smile. Nate ground his teeth together. It killed him that she was on a first name basis with the man and that he was somehow integrated into her small circle of trust. It made him wonder precisely _why_ the Arl was included and how he found out about Jocelyn in the first place.

"I think I'll just take Jocelyn up to bed now. I'll be back in time for supper," she said quietly as she crossed the room to collect the little girl (who had amazingly fallen back to sleep) from Nate's lap.

When Alyx bent to take Jocelyn, Nate swiftly closed his hand over hers. She looked up at him, surprise in the depths of her cerulean eyes. There was so much he wanted to say to her: _Thank you for defending me, for believing in me, for trusting in me, _but the words would not come. Instead he prayed his thoughts would show through in his searching gaze. _Something_ must have because she smiled at him, slow and warm, and squeezed his hand before lifting her daughter into her arms and turning to leave.

A heavy, uncomfortable silence permeated the room after Alyx's departure until Teagan cleared his throat.

"I'll, uh, just go see how supper's coming along, shall I?" he said before quickly taking his leave.

"So, Zevran…is _now_ an appropriate time to explain Jocelyn to us?" Anders asked the elf the moment the door closed behind the Arl.

"Before you begin…I had a question, if I may?" Nate interrupted. "Actually, it is more a theory than anything."

Zevran and Leliana shot a loaded look at each other, but Zevran nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"From what you said earlier I'm assuming she has kept the child a secret in order to protect her. With that being said, I wondered if I was right in thinking that it is Weisshaupt and the First Warden that she is attempting to keep Jocelyn's existence from," he said.

"Ah, an excellent theory, but I fear the bulk of her concern lies closer to home than that," Zevran replied evenly. "I assume you have already surmised that Alistair is the father?" When both Anders and Nate confirmed this, Zevran nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now, tell me…what do you know of the man?"

"What? Besides he and the Commander being lovers?" Anders began. "Well, let's see…he was one of only two Grey Wardens to survive Ostagar…Falcon being the other of course…that they traveled together during the blight and died killing the archdemon."

"Is that all?" Zevran asked, eyebrows shooting up in question.

"Well—" Anders began, but faltered when nothing came to mind.

"Oghren said something about them having been engaged," Nate supplied. "But beyond that and what Anders has told you, I know nothing else of the man."

"So you know nothing of his parentage?" Zevran pressed.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Anders asked.

"It has _everything_ to do with it," Leliana replied quietly, promptly earning their full and undivided attention. "Alistair was the bastard son of King Maric. What's more, he was named heir and rightful king shortly before the end of the blight."

_"What?" _Anders and Nate both cried at the same time.

"So Falcon was nearly _queen_?" Anders squeaked in surprise, his face paling and then flushing as a wide smile crossed his face. "That's _fantastic_."

Leliana chuckled.

"I wholeheartedly agree, though she was nearly as frightened about the prospect as her husband-to-be…and that is saying something! It is a shame if you ask me. Alistair enjoyed playing the fool but he was really quite intelligent and more importantly, he had a noble and compassionate heart. Their combined abilities would have made them a formidable pair indeed."

"Yes, but had he survived Alyx would not have. Surely you see that?" Nate asked quietly.

"Yes, of course. I only meant…what I was attempting to say was…never mind," replied, her face flushing with embarrassment.

"I wonder…did he know of her pregnancy?" Nate continued.

"Not that we knew. Falcon didn't even realize until after she returned to Highever…a full month after the Battle of Denerim and over four since the, uh, approximate time of conception."

"It took her more than four months to realize she was with child? How is that even _possible_?" Anders gasped.

"I asked that very same question when she told me of her condition. From what I gather since she was told that pregnancy was out of the question she assumed her absent fluxes were yet another enigma of the taint. Even as other common signs appeared she claimed she never once considered that she may be with child," Leliana replied. "Whether or not Alistair knew would make little difference. Either way he would never have let Alyx sacrifice herself."

"How was she even able to hide such a thing for so long?" Anders asked. "I mean, I've never been to Highever Castle, but no doubt it is a massive place with a large staff and any number of merchants and nobles wandering in and out as you please. Surely someone would have realized eventually?"

"Falcon remained confined to the family quarters once she could no longer hide her condition, and any visitors were turned away with the excuse that she was ill. It wasn't necessarily a lie either. Between a number of near miscarriages and the severe depression that set in after Alistair's death it was a difficult pregnancy and an even more difficult birth. It is an experience neither of us would ever wish to go through again. After all, she nearly died and Jocelyn along with her," Leliana told them. "Indeed, if it weren't for Arl Teagan, that's exactly what would've happened."

"What? What does _he_ have anything to do with it?" Nate asked in surprise.

"Fergus had invited Teagan to Highever for a hunt, as it was a pastime they both enjoyed and had been unable to share for several years. Since the babe wasn't due for a few more weeks and the men would be out of the castle for most of his stay, Fergus believed there was little danger of his friend learning of Falcon's condition. Falcon, on the other hand, was restless from her long confinement and feeling a bit peckish. As soon as she saw the men leave she left her room through the servant's passages to keep from being seen. In the meantime Teagan realized that he had left his prized hunting horn in his quarters, and thus decided to return to the castle to retrieve it. Having run tame in Highever Castle from childhood he knew of the shortcut through the servant's passage. He found Falcon at the base of the stairs, half-conscious and delirious with pain. The labor pains had come on so swiftly and strongly she had no time to head back or call for help. Without a word Teagan carried her back to her rooms and searched the castle for Wynne. To this day I believe that had he not found her when he did, Falcon would not have made it through the delivery. There were…complications," Leliana finished.

"What sort of 'complications?'" Anders asked, narrowing his eyes.

"The sort that only a healer of Wynne's abilities would be able handle. I know little of childbirth and spent most of the process holding Falcon's hand, murmuring comforting words so that she would stay calm and focused. In reality I think it was more so that _I_ was not afraid. I've seen less blood on a battlefield then I did that day, but if you really want to know you'll have to ask Wynne," Leliana replied.

"But we have gone too far off track," Zevran said impatiently. "You are wondering why our dear Warden-Commander keeps her daughter a secret from the whole of Thedas, no?"

"A child of Theirin and Cousland blood…that is a potent combination," Nate murmured. "One that many would do much to see on the throne."

"Yes, but Jocelyn is a bastard. Surely that makes a difference?" Anders asked.

"It didn't for Alistair," Zevran replied with a shrug. "Though that hardly signifies in her case."

"And why is that?"

"Because Jocelyn is not a bastard," Alyx's voice rung out from the open study door. Her expression was hard and deadly serious as she leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. "Alistair and I were married in secret, at Redcliffe, the night before we marched on Denerim. Until this moment I thought only three others beside myself, Alistair and the Maker knew that little tidbit. How did _you_ learn of it Zevran?" she asked the elf coldly as she straightened and entered the room.

"I saw the two of you leaving the castle that night. Curious, I asked myself, 'Now Zevran, why would our two dear Wardens be sneaking around in the middle of the night?' So I followed you, of course. To my surprise, the hooded figure you were meeting by the shores of Lake Calenhad was none other than the Reverend Mother in all her matronly glory. If I hadn't figured it out there and then, the sight of the two of you kneeling in front of her while she recited the Maker's words would be more than enough for anyone," Zevran recounted, the last bit making Alyx roll her eyes and snort in a very unladylike fashion. "I have to hand it to our dear Alistair, I didn't think he had it in him…a secret, lakeside wedding with no one but the moon and stars as witness? 'Tis a shame you didn't invite the rest of us. It truly was a sight to behold."

"Oh, how _romantic_," Leliana breathed as she clasped her hands in front of her.

"You've heard this before, Leli," Alyx said, an expression of amusement crossing her face.

"I am a woman and reserve the right to sigh over romantic gestures," Leliana replied with a sniff, making Alyx smile.

"The ring," Nathaniel said suddenly, speaking up for the first time since Alyx reentered the room.

She turned and nodded at him in approval.

"It was once King Maric's. Eamon gave it to Alistair after the Landsmeet in good faith, and when he died…well…Eamon knew of our nuptials and thought it only appropriate that I keep it. After all, I too was a Theirin even if it was in marriage alone."

Nate nodded in understanding.

"But you were publically engaged to him. Why marry in secret?" Anders asked.

"We knew of the dangers we would be facing once we reached Denerim…that there was a chance that one or the both of us wouldn't be walking away from this. Alistair wanted to go into battle knowing if he died it would be with the knowledge that we were one in the Maker's eyes, not just in our own hearts. If we were lucky enough to survive then we would have the extravagant public wedding everyone expected and no one need know that we were already wed."

"And Arl Eamon just went along with this?" Nate asked, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Maker, no! He wasn't told until after the fact, and even then he was furious that we had done something so rash. Of course telling him at all had been completely Alistair's idea. Though Eamon is a good man at the time I felt he was far too involved in court politics to trust lightly. Alistair had utter faith in him, as a son would have in a father. Luckily his trust was well-founded, as Eamon has proven himself to be a constant and loyal friend," Alyx replied.

"So, Jocelyn is the true heir?" Anders asked, a touch of shock lacing his voice.

"Some would think so, but technically she is not," Alyx said. "Alistair may have been named King, but he never made it to his coronation. That wouldn't matter to some people though. Anora has her enemies, and there are those who would risk anything to have a Theirin on the throne once again."

"And what of you?" he asked.

"Me?"

"You married the man. Couldn't you claim the throne for yourself?"

"No. It doesn't work that way, nor would I ever want such a thing," she replied.

"Does Queen Anora know?" Nate asked suddenly, unsure of what made him think of it, but needing to know the answer.

"No, and she can never learn of her existence," Alyx replied in a soft tone that belied the fear laced in her voice. "She is the very reason why I must keep my daughter a secret."

Nate watched her as she crossed the room to stand in front of the hearth, hands clasped behind her back. She stared into the flames, emotions fluttering across her face as quickly as the shadows cast by the weak light.

"I've never really liked Anora though I can respect her for what she is...a woman of power. She has intelligence and cunning to spare and knows the game of politics better than anyone. She is well loved by the people and has done a fair job of keeping the peace since the end of the war. I do not always agree with her methods, but I cannot argue the results. Unfortunately, she is her father's daughter in more ways than one. If she were to ever find out that the Theirin line yet lives through my daughter, there is no telling what she would do."

"You don't honestly think that the Queen would have a child...an _innocent babe_ for Maker's sake…murdered, just for being what she is?" Anders asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't put it past her," Zevran interjected. "I have seen Anora's kind before. She craves power, and will do anything both to have it and to keep it once acquired."

"She has proven this on more than one occasion," Alyx added in agreement. "During the blight Arl Eamon called a Landsmeet contesting Loghain's claim as regent and putting Alistair forward as the true heir to the throne. Anora promised our support during the Landsmeet, claiming her father had gone mad and needed to be stopped. She then pulled me aside and tried to convince me to support her instead of Alistair for the crown. When I dismissed her request she turned on us."

"What's more, she refused to pledge fealty to Alistair when he was named," Leliana said as she continued the tale in her soft, lilting voice. "He could've had her killed but instead he had her imprisoned, just in case the unthinkable happened, which of course it did. She even admitted that had she been in his shoes _she_ would've had him executed."

"Anora hated Alistair for reasons I still cannot fathom, and I'm pretty sure she hated Cailan as well. We found substantial evidence that he had been planning on discarding her due to her inability to produce an heir. Of course now that she has a son of her own it is pretty obvious that it was Cailan who was to blame on that front," Alyx said. "The very fact that she has an heir makes her all the more dangerous. She would see Jocelyn as a threat to her and her son's throne. It would take very little for such an idea to push her over the edge, just as the idea of Orlesian forces in Fereldan drove Loghain to madness."

"The Wardens are popular but especially _you_ Commander for your part in ending the blight," Anders replied. "There would be a public outcry were she to commit such a grievous sin against you."

"She is _Queen_, Anders. She has more than enough resources in her arsenal to do so without anyone ever catching on."

"You do realize you won't be able to hide her forever?" Nate added cautiously. "She is already the spitting image of you, Lex. Someone is bound to notice and report it back to her."

"Yes, I realize that, but all I can do is try…" but Alyx was beginning to choke up now. Leliana rubbed her back in the attempts to calm her down. Nate had never seen her so close to sheer, bloody panic.

"I'm beginning to understand your concerns," he said softly. "But there is just one last thing I need to know." Alyx sniffed and looked up at him, searching his eyes.

"Do you wish Jocelyn to take the throne?" he asked finally, his steely-grey gaze drilling into hers.

"No," she said with finality. "What I want is for my daughter to be happy and healthy. I want her to grow up knowing she is safe and loved, and I want to give her the most normal childhood I can, considering she has a Grey Warden for a Mother," she added with a small, ironic smile.

Nate nodded in approval. It was exactly the answer he wanted to hear.

"Then I pledge to do everything in my power to protect her," he said, standing to offer his hand. Alyx looked at it hesitantly at first and then reached out to take it firmly in hers. "Blood to blood, my honor for yours," he pledged.

Alyx swallowed hard, but nodded in gratitude.

"I'm in, Commander!" Oghren crowed as he jumped to his feet, albeit on the wobbly side. He crossed the room and offered his hand, repeating the words that Nathaniel had recited from the depths of his heart. "Blood te blood, my honor fer yers," he swore, eyes bright with drink and enthusiasm.

Anders stood and sauntered over to her, offering his own hand.

"Just so you know, you could've told us all of this sooner," he said with a smirk. "Then perhaps I would've beat Howe at making up the new, nifty handshake. Oh well, perhaps I can make up the Grey Warden secret knock instead?" he continued with a wink before repeating the same words as the others.

Even Leliana and Zevran did the same. Though neither were Wardens, they understood the meaning behind the words. It was a moment that Nate would not soon forget.

"Supper is ready, My Lady," one of the maid's announced from the doorway. She nodded in acknowledgment and thanked the girl before the group headed out to the dining hall.

Nate couldn't help but notice how her expression fell as they entered. Arl Teagan was there but not her brother. It stood to reason that Fergus was still fuming and had refused to come down to supper as he should.

"I'll go up and speak with him, see if I can't get him to join us, hmm?" Leliana said before turning on her heel and flitting out of the room. Alyx had smiled at her gratefully, but hadn't replied otherwise.

The first course was served as soon as they were all seated. The food was rich and plentiful, absolutely _heavenly_ in comparison to what the Wardens had been eating for the past couple of weeks. Leliana soon rejoined them, but when Alyx shot her a questioning look she could only shake her head, a sad, understanding smile crossing her lips.

"Give him time, ma petite," she whispered to her as she warmly squeezed her arm. Alyx smiled at her sadly before turning back to the meal.

The more courses they passed through, the more boisterous and animated the conversation became. Nate figured it had something to do with the mottled wine which was flowing freely throughout the meal, though instead it could just be the unusual combination of personalities around the table. Leliana was an exquisite story teller and was currently charming Teagan and Anders with one of her many Orlesian tales. He guessed that Oghren and Zevran were having some sort of competition, for neither would be outdone by the others lascivious comments. Nate sat back and watched it all, realizing that their simple meal had turned into something of a celebration. The room was practically brimming over with mirth, yet the one person who should be celebrating more than any of them remained silent and aloof. Sure, she spoke if someone asked her a direct question, and with a beauteous smile spread across her lovely face but other than that she kept to herself.

Her distraction grew worse as the night wore on and Nate was growing concerned. Her face had gone pale, her eyes glassy and hooded. He hadn't thought she had more than one glass of the wine, but he hadn't been paying close enough attention to be sure. It _was_ strong wine after all.

"Are you all right, dear-heart?" Leliana asked her, finally noticing Alyx's distraction.

"I…I'm fine. I think I'll just…retire for the evening," she said in a low, hoarse voice as she slowly got to her feet.

"Are you sure? I could come with you if you'd like," Leliana replied, her brow furrowing in concern.

"I'm fine, Leli, really. Just…tired…is all," she stuttered, gaining the attention of the rest of the group.

"Falcon?" Anders called, his voice low with fear as she swayed on her feet.

Suddenly her eyes grew round with alarm, her face turning whiter than he had ever seen it before as a single, crimson drop of blood trickled out of one nostril and down to the crease of her lip. Everything seemed to slow down as her eyes rolled up into her head. Her body pitched backward towards the ground, but Anders was quick enough to catch her before her head hit the floor. He swept her up into his arms and practically sprinted up the stairs.

_Nonononono! _Repeated over and over again through Anders' head as he dashed around the corner and kicked open the door to her chambers.

He gently placed her on the bed, immediately taking her pulse and sighing with relief. Her heartbeat was sluggish but _there_, and at the moment that was the most important thing. He looked over her face and nearly gasped. Her lips were blue, the skin tinged white and nearly translucent. He could clearly see the veins below the surface and shuddered at what must be going on inside of her just now.

"It's poison," Zevran said from behind him.

Anders turned to look at the elf and noticed that most of the dinner party had followed him up to her bedchamber. They all shared the same horrified expression.

"Poision? Are you sure? Who on Thedas would want to poison her?" Anders gasped in surprise.

"The Wardens have many enemies, yes?" Zevran replied with a noncommittal shrug though his eyes were bright with intent. "We will find out who it was, but now is not the time. You wish a cure?"

"You know how to cure her?" he asked, brows shooting up in surprise.

"I might, but I cannot promise that it will work," Zevran replied, accent thick with emotion. "I've only seen this sort of reaction once before…in Orzammar, during the blight. A woman was accidently poisoned with a strong draught used almost exclusively for the purpose of regicide. I watched Wynne combine the ingredients for the antidote. If you are willing, I can show you."

"Show me then, and quickly," Anders replied, but stopped to check her vitals once again. "We don't have much time," he whispered before turning to glare daggers at the others. "Just what do you all think you are doing, standing around staring like a bunch of slack-jawed fools? Either be helpful or get out! I've far too much to do to have any of you getting in my way!"

Everyone simply stared in shock. Anders inwardly cursed. _I should really be mean and angry more often, _he thought to himself.

"I heard the Commander collapsed. Is she going to be okay?" Varel breathed as he skidded into the room, his face ruddy and his breath coming in sharp gasps. Anders' eyebrows shot up once again. Varel was the very epitome of composure, to see him this riled up was beyond bizarre.

"It seems that the Commander has been poisoned. Zevran and I are working on antidote as we speak," Anders replied in calm, even tones that surprised even him.

"If that is the case then we have bigger problems than I initially thought," Varel replied, his face immediately turning stony with anger as he spoke. "Nathaniel's gone."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"An Insuperable Impediment" by Dario Marianelli (Jane Eyre 2011 OST); "Confluence" by John Williams (Memoirs of a Geisha OST); Danilov's Confession by James Horner (Enemy at the Gates OST); "Farewell to Gwen" by Rohan Stevenson (Merlin: Series Two OST); "Harry Surrenders" by Alexandre Desplat (Dealthly Hallows Pt. 2 OST)._


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 - Burdens**

"What do you mean he's _gone_"? Anders demanded.

"I saw him ride out just moments ago actually," Varel replied. "I did think it curious that he would take off alone, and with such haste, but then of course I assumed it was Warden business and beyond my authority to question."

"That son-of-a-_bitch!" _Anders seethed in sudden shock and fury. "He fooled us all into believing…and then he goes and…I'll _kill_ him."

"Now let's not be too hasty," Leliana said softly. "We cannot be certain that he is responsible. He might have gone for help for all we know."

"Where would he go for help? The _tower_?" Anders replied with a sarcastic snort. "It would take him a month just to get there and back. And what about his timing? Why would he leave so suddenly? _Without even so much as a word to anyone?"_

"He has a point, bard," Oghren said from the doorway. "The Howe boy has an impressive knowledge of poisons, not to mention the fact that he was sittin' right next to her at supper. He could'a slipped somethin' into her vittles without anyone bein' the wiser. Just makes sense."

"It makes far _too_ much sense," Leliana replied. "Someone may wish us to believe that it is Nathaniel."

"Or perhaps he is his father's son after all," Anders spat furiously. "He's already tried to kill her once, what's to stop him from trying again?"

"I have a hard time believing this Nathaniel would harm her. I have watched him closely since our arrival. He cares for her, of this I am sure," Zevran interjected.

"I agree with Zevran. Nevertheless, even if he is somehow responsible it should be for Falcon to decide what to do with him. For now, you should concentrate solely on healing her. There will be time enough to worry about the rest later," Leliana said.

Anders nodded tersely as he forced his anger to the back of his mind so that he could focus on the task at hand. He shooed everyone out of the room save for Zevran, who immediately began listing the ingredients they would need to concoct the antidote. The process was both time-consuming and complicated. Anders had to give Zevran credit for remembering it all down to the smallest detail. He stopped every so often so that he could check Falcon's vitals, which were increasingly deteriorating as time progressed.

"Maker, she's burning up! How much longer before it's ready?" Anders gasped as he checked her pulse once again and was shocked at how hot her skin was to the touch.

"Patience my dear warden," Zevran replied calmly. "We are nearly finished. Now hand me that pouch of dried elfroot."

Anders did as he asked and watched as the elf ground the dried herbs into a small bowl until it was the consistency of a fine powder. He poured it into a cauldron with the rest of the ingredients, stirring it briskly before turning to grab an empty vial from a nearby table. He carefully poured the contents of the cauldron into the vial and lifted it to eye level to inspect the consistency, tilting it back and forth before nodding and turning back to Anders.

"You'll have to prop her up so that we can administer the drought properly," Zevran said. "She must take all of it at once."

Anders nodded and moved to the bed. Carefully, he slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her to a half-sitting position, gently tilting her head back until her lips parted of their own accord.

"Slowly," Zevran prompted as Anders poured the contents into Alyx's mouth, making sure that every last drop disappeared between her lips.

"Good girl," he murmured as she swallowed reflexively. Gently, he laid her back down, brushing a strand of stray hair from out of her face. Anxiety clutched at his heart as he stared down at her still form and silently urged the potion to work.

"How long before it begins to work?" he asked the elf quietly.

"Of that I am unsure. In the case of the woman in Orzammar, we were called away before we were able to see the antidote take effect. The healer sent us a note the next morning to say that she would survive, but that was the last we heard of it," Zevran replied as he placed a hand on Anders' shoulder. "All we can do is wait and hope. Then again, perhaps there is more that you can do for her?"

"Hmm," Anders replied, his gaze never leaving Falcon's face. "At this point all I can do is try to bring the fever down, maybe make her a little more comfortable until I know whether or not the antidote will do its job."

"Then I shall leave her in your very capable hands. Falcon has told me that you are one of the finest healers she has ever met and the woman has uncanny sense of such things. If anyone can save her from the brink of death, it would be you. I, on the other hand, am better suited to the shadows," Zevran said, a devilish smile crossing his features.

"You have a plan?" Anders asked him, an eyebrow raised in question at the subtle meaning behind the assassin's words.

"Not one per say, but…I have a feeling that the answers we seek still lay within these walls. Should I learn anything, I will be sure to let you know."

Anders nodded and thanked him before Zevran slipped from the room. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before rolling up his sleeves. He prepared a cold compress to place upon her brow in the attempts to bring her fever down, changing it out at regular intervals so that it would not get too hot. He frequently gave her water and small doses of a healing tonic throughout the night, but nothing seemed to help. He finally sat down sometime just before dawn, realizing that at this point all he could really do is wait. Without meaning to he dozed off, startling awake several hours later to find Falcon's color had improved, her pulse once again even and natural. Upon further examination he found he could no longer sense the poison coursing through her veins. He breathed a sigh of relief, believing that she was out of danger.

By midday he began to realize how very wrong he was.

She was not in a natural sleep, of this he was certain, but neither could he tell what was keeping her unconscious. He hoped at first that it was simply a part of the recovery process, but even then he knew he was fooling himself.

The others came and went, asking him questions he had no answers to. He hardly noticed them as he continuously ran his hands over her body, trying to find something, anything to explain this new development. The only time he shook himself free of the trance-like state he found himself in was when Fergus Cousland walked into the room, a shadow of the stubborn, self-assured man that had waltzed into Falcon's study the night before.

Fergus's face was drawn and pale as he took in his sister's prostrate form. When he stumbled to the side of the bed and dropped to his knees in disbelief, Anders crossed to the other side of the room to give the man a little privacy. He tried not to listen to the simple, ardent words pouring from the Teryn's lips, but he could not help but overhear them.

"Maker, Alyx! I'm so sorry. I never meant…" he began, swallowing hard as a pained look crossed his face. "I know I'm overbearing, and I know you can't stand me sometimes, but…_damn it_, you can't leave me, not now. Who will tell me when I'm being an ass and put me in my place if you leave?" he continued, trying to smile as he said these last words, but the emotions were too much for him. Anders saw him briefly put a hand to his eyes, and he realized that Fergus was crying. When he spoke again his voice was thick and shaking with emotion. "_Please_, Alyx, I love you! You and Leliana...you're all I have and you…I can't..._stay_. Damn it, Alyx, _stay_ with us! If not for me then for your daughter!"

Anders heart went out to the man. He never had a sister but he had an idea of what he was going through. When Fergus finally collected himself and asked him how things looked, he didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. Instead, he smiled and told him not to worry.

He doubled his effort from that point on, occasionally placing restorative spells on himself so that he could keep working through the night. The others each offered to help in their own way, but he would simply shake his head and turn them away. Even Velanna had offered to take his place as healer so that he could get a few hours of rest, but Anders didn't trust her enough to leave Falcon alone with the elf.

"Fine, far be it from me to offer my services, human. You will kill yourself by overextending and then where will she be?" Velanna asked haughtily before sauntering out of the room. It took a moment but Anders realized she was right. He called her back, though he had to practically beg to get the hard-headed woman to renew her offer.

He slept only a few hours, but it was enough to make him feel somewhat human again. When he walked back into Falcon's room he hoped that something had changed while he was away, but when he silently asked Velanna with a single, pleading look, the elf simply shook her head and exited the room without a word.

By the third day Anders was at his wit's end.

She would not wake. Though her vitals had improved, her body had stopped responding. Light, voices, even pain would not bring her around. Any potions or water that he tried to administer her body would reject. He had done everything within his power to revive her but it seemed as if this ailment, whatever it was, was beyond his skills as a healer. He even considered sending someone to the Circle for help, but he knew that it would be far too late before anyone could make it back.

Anders began to quietly panic.

She was slowly, painfully fading, and there was nothing he could do about it. Soon he would have to tell the others; soon they would know that he had failed.

Lifting her once again he tried to force water down her throat, but it simply trickled back out of her mouth, just as it had for the past day and a half. Placing her gently back down on the bed he scrubbed his hands over his face as he tried to collect his scattering senses. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry as exhaustion and fear set in. His resources exhausted, Anders decided to do something he hadn't for years…he prayed.

_Uh…hi there…Maker? When I said that I wanted to get Falcon in bed, this is not exactly what I meant..._he began, but then realized that this line of thought was probably significantly inappropriate, so he started again.

_Maker…if you're listening…and I _hope_ you're listening…then I have a favor to ask you. If you spare her, I promise that I will start going to chantry services again. Can't promise that they'll actually have me as I'm a mage, but I can try, right?_

Then of course that didn't seem right either. _Bribing the divine? Probably not a good idea_, he thought. He considered threatening the Maker but that made less sense than the bribing. Finally, he fell back on simple, outright begging. Closing his eyes, he poured everything he had into his desperate, silent appeal.

_Please let her live, Maker. Send me the wisdom to heal her or send us someone who can. There is too much counting on her strength, her skill as both a leader and a warden, as well as her strength of heart. We need her. Gah, who am I kidding! _I_ need her. _

Opening his eyes he stared at Falcon, trying to ascertain if there was any difference in her appearance. She lay motionless and unchanged, just as she had the past few days. He huffed, blowing a few strands of hair out of his face in the process.

"Could you maybe give me a sign that you at least got the message?" he said out loud.

Silence.

He hadn't really expected a response, but he had to try, didn't he?

Suddenly the door burst open and Leliana ran in, panting with exertion.

"He's back! Nathaniel's back and he has Wynne with him!" she gasped in excitement.

"What? Nate…Wynne is _here_?" Anders replied incredulously just before the woman herself strolled briskly into the room, Nathaniel just behind her.

"Wynne, thank the Maker! I thought you left for Cumberland weeks ago!" he exclaimed as he threw his arms around the elderly mage in greeting.

Wynne chuckled and leaned back to look at him, concern momentarily flashing in her eyes when she saw the state he was in. Anders tried not to wince, but it was obvious from the look on her face that he was not looking his best.

"Yes, well, delay after delay had me waiting in Amaranthine twiddling my thumbs. It was lucky your companion here found me when he did. I was literally just moments away from boarding a ship when he stopped me," Wynne replied.

"What about the College of Magi?" Anders asked, smiling as Wynne tsked and waved her hand dismissively.

"They've waited this long for me; they can wait a little longer. When Nathaniel told me of Alyxandria's condition I knew that I could not simply turn away. Though I have great confidence in your skills, my dear, I had to see she was alright for myself. Now that I'm here and see the look in your eyes, I'm glad that I decided it was necessary," Wynne replied before turning back to Nathaniel. "You best lay down, young man, before you fall down," she said as her eyes drilled into his.

"But, I—"

"I will brook no arguments from you. I _am_ a healer after all, and I know a case of acute exhaustion when I see it," Wynne replied in motherly, clipped tones.

Nate looked like he was about to argue further despite the elderly mage's warnings. He looked behind them both to the still form on the bed, his face paling further as he took in the changes illness had wrought in Falcon's small frame. Indeed, trying to see her as Nathaniel might, Anders realized she looked far too close to death for comfort.

"You'll be of no use to her dead on your feet, my dear. The moment something changes, I promise I'll send for you," Wynne continued, he voice and demeanor melting into warm understanding as she squeezed Nathaniel's arm insistently.

He swallowed hard but finally nodded at Wynne in acquiescence. Anders studied the man and noted the deep bruising under his eyes from lack of sleep and the several days' growth of facial hair. He did seem somewhat unsteady on his feet, a very un-Nate-like trait, and he could barely keep his eyes open as he stood there staring daggers at Wynne. In short, he looked like a man that had been on the road for days without rest. In fact, he was astounded at how fast Nathaniel made it to Amaranthine and back. It had taken their entire party just as long to get to Amaranthine from the Vigil as it took him to get there, find Wynne and return. _He must have ridden straight through without stopping for more than to change horses! _Anders realized.

"Nate—" Anders called before the other man could walk away.

_What are you doing? _His mind screamed as he realized he was about to apologize to his fellow warden for believing the worst of him, though Nathaniel had no idea that they considered him suspect. _Then again_, he thought as he looked into Nathaniel's eyes and saw the dare in the silverite gaze. _The man's far too observant for his own good, _Anders muttered to himself.

"Thank you," he told him finally, and then realized he truly meant it. With Wynne here they might have a chance to save her after all. Nate nodded in acknowledgment and then turned and quietly left the room.

"How did he know to find you?" Anders asked as he turned back to Wynne.

"He didn't, or so he said when I asked the same. He claimed he was simply working on a gut feeling. He didn't know precisely what he was looking for or how to find it, he only knew that he had to try. To act when there was still time to do so. It's his gift, Anders, and a useful one at that," Wynne replied as she moved to the bedside to examine Falcon.

She moved nimble, wizened hands over Falcon's body, the pulse of magic glowing blue against her pale skin as Wynne concentrated.

"Nathaniel told me that there was poison at work here but I sense no such thing within her," Wynne said.

"Zevran knew of an antidote, one he learned from you actually. It seemed to work at first. As you said, there is no trace of poison in her blood stream, but she remains comatose," Anders replied. "What's more, her body rejects both nourishment and healing potions. I've tried everything, Wynne. Whatever this is…it's beyond my skills."

"Hmm," was Wynne's only comment as she continued to examine Falcon. What seemed like hours later (though it was more likely mere minutes) Wynne sighed deeply and sat down on the edge of the bed. She shot Anders a look that made his pulse race with worry.

"Something is keeping her in the fade. Something that is feeding off of her. Draining her," Wynne said quietly. "We must send someone in after her, and quickly before it is too late. Considering the rate of her degeneration we do not have a lot of time to spare. She is failing fast, Anders, far faster than she should be."

Anders face drained of all color at her assessment, but he nodded in understanding.

"I'll go," he nearly whispered.

"I thought you might say that, and glad I am that you are willing to do so. I would go myself, but we have no idea what you might be facing on the other side. Age has finally caught up to me and I can no longer battle as I once did," Wynne replied with another small chuckle before her face fell, another thought obviously taking precedent. "Tell me you have another mage at hand. We need at least three to conduct the ritual, though more is better."

Anders jumped to his feet and opened the door to scream down the hallway for Velanna. When he turned back to Wynne he saw a look of amusement flash across her face. He shot her a questioning look, but all she did was shrug and shake her head. Moments later Velanna entered the chamber and the three mages immediately began preparing for the enchantment.

Word must have gotten around about what they were about to do. By the time they were ready to begin, Oghren, Leliana, Fergus and even Teagan gathered inside the chamber, each sitting or standing in silent determination.

"You can all stay just as long as you do not interrupt the enchantment once it begins. Her life is depending on it," Wynne told them briefly as she gave them each a hard look of warning. When she was satisfied with their responses, she turned back to Anders and pushed him into a chair next to the bed. "I doubt this will be as simple as it sounds. You'll have to look for her first. Be alert and be careful, Anders. You don't know what is holding her there," she told him as she leaned down to look him directly in the eyes.

"I will, Wynne, and I'll bring her back. I promise," Anders answered, his mouth set in a determined line as he squeezed Wynne's hand.

"I am counting on it," she answered with a wink as she squeezed his hand in return before moving to the opposite side of the bed.

Velanna and Wynne stood parallel to each other on opposite sides of the bed, their hands connected above Falcon as they began to weave the spell. Anders closed his eyes as he began to feel the pull of magic wash over him. He concentrated on the spell, not quite hearing the words but feeling them as his subconscious reached out to pass through the veil.

_Hold on, Falcon_, _I'm coming, _was his last conscious thought as the tidal-wave of magic finally pulled him under and the world faded to black.

* * *

***Muse Tunes:**_ "Red Diary" by Dario Marianelli (V for Vendetta OST); "Darcy's letter" by Jean-Yves Thibaudet (Pride and Prejudice OST) and "I never Thanked You" byAlan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST); "Burdens" and "Scarlet Fever" by Thomas Newman (Little Women OST). _


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 – What Dreams May Come**

He was in hell.

_Or the fade equivalent, _Anders thought as he wandered through dark, twisting corridors that had no beginning or end. In truth, he hadn't really known what to expect once he passed through the veil. He'd rarely had reason to explore beyond his own realm of the fade, and the few times he had had been nothing like this. _This_ was surely the stuff of nightmares.

Even the air in this place was strange. Still. Like stagnant water or a tomb…or at least what he assumed a tomb must feel like, as he had never actually been inside of one himself. But he had heard stories of such places; of vast stone catacombs deep beneath the earth filled with piles of bones that went on without end. He shuddered at the thought of being trapped in such a place for all eternity, and wondered whether the Deep Roads held the same sinister distinction. He shuddered again at the thought.

After what seemed like an eternity the corridor opened onto a vast, dimly lit chamber. It took his eyes a moment to adjust but once they did he went white as a sheet. There were corpses as far as the eye could see, and not just of men but darkspawn as well. The flickering torchlight cast an eerie glow across the mutilated bodies, making him shudder for a third time since his arrival in this place. _Andraste's ass! I really am in a tomb! _Anders thought as he swallowed past the bile that jumped to his throat. He suddenly and horrifically knew where he was. How could he not when the evidence was laid out before him in such monstrous, graphic detail?

_Fort Drakon. _And not just some random, twisted version of the real thing as was often the case in the fade. This was Fort Drakon as it was in Falcon's memories.

Anders had seen a lot of horrendous things since his conscription, but nothing at this scale. This was…_This is bad. This is really bad, _he thought as he bit back the fear that suddenly made him want to run as fast and as far away as he possibly could. Steeling himself he stepped into the room.

Smoke hung in the air like a paranormal fog, curling in on itself with every step he took. It was almost as if time itself had stopped the moment the battle had ended, and he, the intruder, the only soul on this plane of existence to be unaffected. On further inspection he noted that of the casualties more than a few were elves and dwarves, not just humans as he thought at first glance. He also couldn't help but notice the occasional glimpse of brightly colored robes that could only be that of a circle mage. How easily he might have been one of them. _Where is she? _His mind screamed, wishing to find Falcon and be away from this place as soon as possible.

Halfway across the room Anders began to hear a soft sound off in the distance. He couldn't quite place it, but it sounded vaguely like a voice.

"Falcon?" he called, nearly jumping out of his skin at the reverberation of his own voice echoing back at him. The sound of it was strangely out of place in the stillness that surrounded him.

He froze, straining his ears for a response…_any_ response…but there was none beyond the low, distant hum from before. Whatever it was, it was a sign of life beyond this silent battlefield. He followed the strange sound from room to room and eventually up a flight of stairs.

The second floor boasted the same bloodied corpses scattered across the wreckage, the same unsettling heaviness to the atmosphere. Only the sound he heard before had grown louder; loud enough for him to understand what he was hearing…weeping. Low, mournful sobs that sent shivers down his spine. He called out again, louder this time, and again he got no response. He repeated this over and over again as he travailed the silent halls of the fort; up another flight of stairs, through another silent, static world and yet another flight of stairs. He lost count on how many floors he had ascended or how long he had been in this place. He had to remind himself that time and space had no meaning in the fade. That in fact, it was more likely to play tricks on your mind then to show you the way out.

The higher Anders climbed the louder the weeping grew…that incessant, heart-rending sobbing that pounded through his mind and heart. It took on an almost musical cadence, like a dirge being sung in torturous lament. It pulled at him; tightening his chest and making him feel as if he would go mad if he had to listen to it for much longer. Yet he followed the voice, knowing that if he found its owner, he would somehow find Falcon.

When he saw the dark sky spreading out before him Anders realized he had reached the top and final floor. He didn't think that it was possible that something could be worse than the interior of Fort Drakon. In fact, if he was a gambling man (which, now that he thought of it, he was) he would've bet on it…and lost. The prison towered over the rest of the city and from this height he could see Denerim stretched out below him as far as the eye could see. He was horrified at the number of rooftops that billowed thick, black smoke that polluted the air and made it hard to breath. He could hear the screams of the dying and smell the sharp scent of blood and death, but all of that fell away the moment he took in the massive form of the dragon sprawled at the center of the destruction.

A long, gaping tear ran across the dragon's stomach from sternum to pelvis, allowing the internal organs to spill freely from the open wound. Its mouth hung slightly ajar, showing off a row of broken bloodied teeth and its eyes were rolled back in its monstrous head. A single blade jutted from its skull, golden hilt winking against the backdrop of ash and fire. Anders was so overwhelmed by the sight of it all that he barely noticed the small, leather-clad figure crouched next to the beast's head, her shoulders jerking with every plaintive wail that escaped her lips.

_Falcon, _Anders gasped to himself as his heart started to race. _It had been her crying all along._

He quickened his pace as warning bells began to sound in his head. Abruptly he came to a halt, gasping as his chest squeezed painfully, instantly taking his breath away. He doubled over, placing his hands on his thighs as he told himself to _breathe_ and not to panic. His heart was beating so loudly that he could hear it pounding inside his own ears and the pressure…it was like nothing he ever felt before. He felt…well, he wasn't quite sure how he felt, only that it was unlike anything he had every experienced before. _Get yourself together! It is all a trick, all in your mind, _Anders told himself as he tried to shake it off.

Again he stopped, dropping to his hands and knees as he took deep, long breaths in and out. He cried out as another tide of emotions washed over him, this one more powerful than the previous. It was more than sorrow, more than hopelessness…this was heartbreak in its purest form. Reaching up with shaky fingers, he touched his cheek and discovered tears. He was shocked. He hadn't cried in years, so why was he doing so now? And why was he feeling this immense pain; this sadness that was rending his heart into tiny pieces? Slowly, agonizingly, he forced himself to his feet and took one shaky step at a time, grinding his teeth together as he was hit with wave after wave of utter desolation. Soon he began to have thoughts he knew were not his, thoughts neither he nor anyone else had any business hearing let alone experiencing as if they were their own. _Maker! She can't truly be feeling this way...can she? _he thought desperately, forcing himself to keep moving.

As he approached Falcon he could see that she was cradling the broken body of a man in battered plate armor, his arms and legs sprawled unnaturally in death. His face was unrecognizable beneath the gore but the hair...golden beneath the caked blood…was the exact shade of Jocelyn's.

Anders ran the final steps to her side, inspecting her for injuries with the experienced eye of a healer. Her face was dirty and tear-streaked, and she was covered in blood from head to toe, but it did not appear to be her own. Falcon didn't acknowledge his presence, even when he dropped to his knees in front of her. She simply went on wailing over Alistair's prostrate form as if he wasn't even there.

"Falcon? It's Anders. I've come to take you home," he called to her. "Please listen to me…this isn't real. You have to come with me before it is too late. You have to hear me. Wake up!"

No response.

"_Please_ wake up," he pleaded, tears still running freely down his face as her heartbreak pulsed within his own chest. He stared into the depth of her eyes, but saw no recognition in the dilated, glassed-over pupils. Only sorrow. He took her by the shoulders, shaking her lightly at first, and then a couple of hard, brisk shakes when she didn't so much as blink. He slapped her once, hard across the face...but still there was no response.

"It is useless, mortal," a cold, harsh voice called from behind him. "You cannot wake her."

He whipped his head around only to see exactly what he had been afraid he would see…a desire demon, sitting atop that archdemon's head. At the expression on his face the demon let out a dark, feminine laugh that sent shivers down his spine. It stood and gracefully dropped to the ground beside him, wildly waving its hooked tail as it moved seductively towards him.

"I know what you're thinking. Why not an eternal rendezvous with her dearly departed royal lover? Or a joyful family reunion with her poor, murdered loved-ones? Typical," the demon snorted indelicately. "_Boring_ if you ask me...and surprisingly _not_ her deepest, darkest desires," the demon said in the same dry, lascivious tone as an evil smile spread across its face.

"You do not know my true thoughts or _hers_ for that matter demon," Anders spat, shielding his mind from the desire demon's magnetic pull.

"Ah, but I do, and they are _most_ fascinating," the demon replied with a smirk. "You see, you cannot wake her…because she does not wish to be awakened. Her foolish guilt and sense of failed duty keeps her in this realm. This…all of this…is what she feels she deserves…an eternity of misery and heart-ache to go along with her delusional, pre-conceived notions of failure. _And_…once her mortal body comes to the brink of death, _I_ shall take over and experience all of that glorious, pent up passion she hides so well from the rest of you mortals. It's a shame you won't survive this place. I would have enjoyed the taste of you in her form."

The demon hissed with desire as it ran its hands over its nearly nude form, obviously giving itself great pleasure, though he was unsure whether it was from its own touch or the thought of sexual gratification in a mortal's body. He shuddered at the mere thought either eventuality.

"You cannot have her, demon. I _will_ wake her, and when I do, I suggest you release her…or you will most certainly die," Anders replied tersely.

The desire demon laughed again.

"You can most certainly try, but you will fail, mortal," it said with a hard laugh before disappearing.

Anders immediately turned back to Falcon, desperation lacing his shaking voice as he spoke to her.

"I know you're in there somewhere, Falcon. We need you. Me…your brother Fergus, Leliana, Oghren, Zevran…Nate…" He continued, pausing after each name to see if any created a response, but none did. He breathed a sigh of relief after the last. He admitted to himself that though he wanted her to snap out of it, he was glad that of all names, Howe's was not the one to trigger a response. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. Grabbing her by the shoulders once again he pinned her with his determined, hazel gaze. "Wake up, Commander. Jocelyn needs you."

A flicker of something crossed her eyes for just a moment. He squeezed Falcon's shoulders reflexively. _Finally! _He'd discovered something that might actually work.

"You remember your daughter, Jocelyn? She's waiting for you beyond the veil," he began softly, heart racing with excitement as the clouds began to clear from her eyes, but it wasn't fast enough for him. "Jocelyn's in danger! She needs you _now_ Falcon, wake up!"

_That _triggered a response. Falcon gasped as her eyes cleared entirely. She shook her head as if shaking herself free from the residual effects of the spell, and then looked up at him, confusion crossing her features.

"Anders?" she whispered, reaching out to brush her fingers lightly over his tear-streaked face. "You're crying. Why?"

"No time to explain, Commander," he began with a shaky laugh, capturing her hand in his lightly. He placed a feather-light kiss on the back of her hand before squeezing it and letting it drop to her side. Relief washed over him as she began to scan her surroundings, lucidity in her steady gaze as her eyes widened and narrowed at each new discovery. He had a moment of panic when they briefly began to cloud over again, but then he shook her out of it before she was lost to him a second time.

"Where am I?" she asked once she was herself again.

"The fade. You've been trapped here for days. Your body is dying, Falcon. If we don't get you out of here soon, it will be too late," he told her, wincing at the horror that crossed her face.

"So it was _real_," she whispered a she squeezed her eyes closed for a long minute. "Everything is upside down. What I thought was real is a dream and the dream, reality."

She opened her eyes again, studying his features as if she were looking for something specific in them. What it was, he didn't know.

"Let us leave this place, I've had enough of it to last a lifetime," she finally replied with an air of determination that was far more like the Falcon he knew.

"We must be cautious. There is a desire demon after you. It is unlikely to let us go without a fight," Anders said as he helped her to her feet.

"Yes, well, bring the bitch on then. I have a bone to pick with her and am in the mood to kick some demon ass," she replied, producing a relieved chuckle from Anders.

_That's my girl, _he thought proudly.

"Is that so, mortal? Then here I am," the desire demon replied darkly from behind them. They both turned on their heels to see the demon hovering about a yard or so away, its eerie, violet eyes glowing bright with anger. "Do your worst," it demanded as it raised its arms above its head.

Falcon let out a war cry as she charged the demon like a chasind on the war path. Anders began to chant, bringing the magic into himself in one long, draw, tapping the fade for residual energy. He held it in, waiting for an opening. He could see the desire demon popping in and out as Falcon charged her over and over again, obviously growing frustrated at this sudden game of cat and mouse. Anders smirked, knowing if his spell worked, then the game would soon be over. He began to sweat from the strain of holding the spell in, but he had to wait for the right timing. _Come on, then…a little closer, closer…_he thought as he watched demon and mortal spar. _Steady! _He told himself as his hands began to shake and his vision started to blur.

_Almost there…just a little bit more, and…now! _

Anders released the spell in a single pulse of magic, putting everything he had into it, praying that it would work. Cold spells were not his forte, and he knew it, but it was the quickest most pragmatic spell in this case. Breathing hard after the exertion he put forth, he struggled to see through the mist the spell had left in its wake. When the haze parted, he wanted to laugh with giddy relief. The demon was frozen solid, arms flung out in paralyzed rage. _But where is Falcon? _He thought, a moment of panic making his expression crumble; but then he heard quick footsteps and a grunt, followed by Falcon's lithe body flying through the air. She landed on the demon's back, wrapping her legs tightly around its torso as she grabbed its head in both her hands. Beyond the strained sound elicited from between Falcon's teeth, he heard a cracking noise and then a loud pop as its frozen neck shattered, the head rolling off its shoulders to fall to the floor at his feet. The demons creepy eyes stared up at him in anger for a split second before the decapitated head spindled, then crumbled before his very eyes. Falcon quickly jumped to the ground, watching as the rest of its body slumped and fell, shattering into a thousand pieces.

For a moment they both just stood there, staring at the space that had just been taken up by the demon and then…as reality seeped in…they both began to giggle, and then chortle, until they were laughing so hard they had tears running down their faces. Falcon threw her arms around him as they laughed together in relief and Anders sighed contently as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, his nose finding the curve of her neck as he breathed her in deeply...just to be sure she was as real as she felt.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked her quietly once they both regained a semblance of calm.

"Oh, _yes_," she breathed with one of her rare, genuine smiles curving her beautiful lips. "I've never been so ready in my life. Take me home Anders, _please_."

He beamed at her before grabbing her hand and running across the expanse of the roof. She laughed and followed, though he knew she was unsure of what he was about. When he stopped and climbed the low wall leading to the edge of the roof, he didn't miss the surprised confusion written across her face. He looked down over the side and smiled in satisfaction. Sure enough, just as he thought, there was a portal just below them.

"Anders—" she began, worry catching her voice.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her as he turned to face her.

"Of course," she replied without hesitation.

"Then give me your hand," he said. She eyed his offered hand for a moment but then took it firmly in her own.

She squeaked when he pulled her up on the wall beside him, her small body falling against his in the little space afforded to them. They were standing in a notch of the wall overlooking what should have been the rest of Denerim and the Fereldan countryside beyond...what they saw was little more than mist. _Of course, _Anders thought, inwardly snorting.

"On the count of three we jump," he told her as he pointed to the portal below. She looked down and swallowed hard, but nodded in agreement. He smiled his encouragement as he took her hand once again, looking deep into her cerulean eyes as he did so.

"I won't let go. I promise," he murmured. She smiled and nodded again, her eyes never wavering from his.

"Thank you," she whispered to him.

"You're welcome," he replied with a slow grin and then, "You ready?"

She nodded once again and slowly, he began to count. "One…two…_three!" _

* * *

"How long is this sodding supposed te take?" Oghren growled as he paced restlessly in front of the fire.

It had been hours since Anders had gone into the fade after her, and neither he nor Falcon had so much as twitched.

"Patience, Oghren," Wynne said in a soothing tone. "He has to find her first, _and then_ take on whatever is keeping her."

"Think you that it is a demon?" Zevran asked softly.

He had joined them not long after the mages had finished their spell and had been leaning against the far wall, all but motionless ever since. Fergus and Teagan had their heads bent together, quietly talking across from the assassin, and Leliana was sitting in a chair next to Anders, quietly humming to herself.

"It is a possibility, but we won't know for sure unless they return," Wynne replied to the elf's query.

"You mean _when_ they return, yes?" Zevran replied coldly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Of course," Wynne said as she folded her hands in her lap, her lips turning into a thin line.

Suddenly Falcon's back arched high off the bed, an unnatural sound escaping her lips as her eyes shot open and then widened with fear and pain. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, she dropped back to the bed, as motionless and silent as she had been before. Wynne rushed to the bedside, taking her pulse before running hands infused with magic over her head and down to her chest where they stayed for a long moment. Slowly, she smiled.

"She's sleeping naturally," Wynne breathed with a sigh of relief, the others doing the same.

A moment later Anders woke and immediately placed his head in his hands. The lingering effects of the emotions he experienced within the fade stayed with him as he returned to consciousness. Without meaning to he began to cry, overwhelmed by the sheer depth of Falcon's suffering. He shot up straight at the gentle touch on his back and heard Leliana's soft gasp when she looked into his face.

"Andraste's mercy," she whispered, backing away slowly. "What did you see?"

The others all turned to face him, silently waiting for his reply.

"Fort Drakon," he replied once he collected himself enough to speak, his voice quiet and raspy. There were several gasps this time, followed by murmuring voices as everyone took this in. Wynne simply nodded at him, as if she expected as much, and prompted him to continue.

"I…I could hear every thought, every feeling as she experienced them. I felt…" he began, but had to swallow past the lump in his throat. He closed his eyes tightly against the pain, but opened them again as he forced the words passed his lips. "I _felt_ her heartbreak as if it were my own. I've never experienced anything like it…not in the fade, and certainly not in real life_._ _Maker, _how does one go through life like that? Living every day with that sort of pain without…"

"Going mad?" Wynne supplied. Anders hesitated, but nodded at her words. "Alyxandria has always been a deeply passionate woman, but she is also remarkably strong-willed. Were she not, she would never have survived the blight, not with so much going against her." At this Wynne sighed, a look of sadness entering her eyes. "It is as I feared. Even after all this time, after all that has happened…she mourns him still."

"Yes," Anders replied simply, not knowing what else to say. "But there's more to it than that. Something the demon said that concerns me."

"Tell me everything," Wynne replied.

He explained in great detail what he saw and experienced on his journey through the keep, and then hesitated when he reached the part on the roof. He swallowed, closing his eyes as he steadied his scattered nerves. When he opened them again, his gaze was steady and his voice strong and clear as he explained the sensation of sharing Falcon's emotions.

"How did you get her to listen?" Leliana asked, a look of wild curiosity in her wide, bluish-green eyes as he told them about her irresponsiveness.

"I told her Jocelyn was in trouble," he replied, garnering a nod of approval from Wynne.

"Of _course_. Invoking the name of her daughter was an incredibly intelligent move, my dear. She is connected to Alyxandria in a way that none of us could be, and so it makes sense that she would be the one to save her. It certainly wouldn't be the first time," Wynne concluded.

"I don't understand," Anders began, brow puckered in confusion.

"Alyxandria was in a deep depression after Alistair's death. The knowledge that his child was growing within her womb was the _only_ thing that saved her in those dark days. Afterwards, it was her determination and her strength of will that kept her from going back down that path," Wynne replied, Leliana nodding in agreement next to him. "But we are getting off track. What was it that the demon said that concerned you, my dear?"

He continued his story, telling them all that the desire demon said to him verbatim. Anger seethed within him as he recalled the conversation, the words burned within his memory tasting bitter upon his tongue. Wynne simply _hmmed_ at the words and waved for him to proceed. He finished with a description of the short-lived battle that followed, and their return path through the portal. When he finished the room was totally silent beyond the crackling of the fire upon the hearth.

"Thank the Maker you both made it back intact," Wynne eventually said. "Desire demons are difficult foes, but you both defeated her with little effort. You should be commended."

"Then she's going to be alright?" he asked, perking with excitement as he whipped around to stare at Falcon's still prostrate form.

"She's going to be fine, Anders. _You_, however, are in dire need of rest. Go lay down, I'll keep my eye on her."

"But I—"

"No arguments young man! Go…_rest_. She will be here when you wake," Wynne commanded, her mouth tilting up only slightly in amusement. "And as for the rest of you…be off with you now and let an old woman be! You can visit later when she wakes."

Anders smiled at those last words as he left and shuffled to his own room for the first time in days. _When she wakes, _repeated in his head as he drifted into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.

Falcon awoke the next morning feeling weak and confused, but otherwise whole. She turned her head to the side only to see Anders sitting in a chair by the hearth, a look of profound concentration on his face as he read a thick, leather-bound tomb. _He's cute when he's thinking, _she thought to herself, trying to hold back the giggle that bubbled up from deep in her chest but to no avail. He immediately looked up and smiled when he heard her, putting the book aside as he moved to the bed and carefully sat on the edge of the mattress.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, cautiously running a hand across her forehead to check for any sign of fever. She carefully sat up, leaning her head gingerly against the headboard.

"I've felt worse," she began, voice hoarse from disuse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Can't remember when exactly, but…I'm grateful to be alive, and I have you to thank for that."

"Hardly-" Anders began, but she interrupted before he could continue.

"It's true. Had you not come after me…had you not known how to get through…thank you, for…saving me…from the demon...from myself," she stuttered, flushing with embarrassment with her last words.

"Well, then," Anders said, clearing his throat before he continued. "You're welcome…though you would have saved yourself eventually. I just moved things along a little quicker."

"Humility? From _you_ Anders?" she asked with amusement, making the mage blush a deep crimson. "You can spin it however you wish, but the truth is that I would still be there, bent over Alistair's broken body if you hadn't come after me. Either that or the demon would have had me as a meal by now."

At that she shuddered, making Anders chuckle before his expression turned serious again. Her heart beat a little faster, unsure of how she should take all of this uncharacteristic seriousness from him. _I must have really scared him, _she thought as she studied his features and wished she knew what he was thinking just then.

"Might I ask a question?" he asked quietly, his hazel gaze boring into hers.

"Of course," she replied, just as softly.

"Do you truly blame yourself for Fort Drakon?"

She saw the unasked question in his eyes that went along with his words, and briefly shut her own against it. She knew she would have to face this question someday, but she had hoped that she would be prepared for it when it came, maybe even numbed to it if she was lucky. She wasn't. When she opened her eyes again she could see the gentle patience in his own, and let herself take comfort in it. This man, for all their differences, had been deeper inside her head than anyone else, had felt and experienced everything she had while reliving her own personal nightmare. And for all of that he wasn't treating her like an invalid or a madwoman. He wasn't screaming and running away as most people probably would after experiencing something so horrific. Instead he wanted to delve deeper, to know the grotesque reality below the pretty facade. She swallowed hard before she began.

"There was another warden at Fort Drakon that day," she said eventually as she met his steady gaze. "As the most senior warden amongst us, Riordan volunteered to take the final blow. He died early on, thrown from the back of the archdemon while trying to fulfill his duty. That left either Alistair or I to do the deed…" she paused, collecting her emotions before continuing. "Alistair was to be King. As the last of the Theirin line I could see his future clearly in my mind's eye, which left it up to me to…"

She faltered to a halt; tears welling in the corner of her eyes as the memories painfully tore at her chest. Anders squeezed her hand, silently lending his support. She took a deep breath and then continued.

"It should have been _my_ blow to take, but he took it from me anyway. He was all that I had left in this world, the one thing in all of Fereldan that was my duty to protect, and _I failed_."

"You're wrong," he replied softly, earning him a confused look from Falcon. "You protected the Theirin line whether you knew it or not," he continued, seeing the surprise in her eyes at his statement. "And you will always have Jocelyn to prove that your time with him was real, that your love for him was _not_ unfounded. As a wife and mother, you did your duty."

Falcon opened her mouth to speak, but Anders stopped her by raising a hand.

"Now," he continued. "As a warden, well…you might not have personally killed the archdemon, but you _have_ protected thousands of innocents with all that you've done. You gathered an army to face the blight, you crushed a civil war before it could destroy us all, crowned a king _and _a queen…Beyond that, you're a bloody _brilliant_ leader and have faced death more times than I can count...and that just within the span of time I've known you. _Maker_, woman, can't you _see_?" he growled in consternation.

She simply sat there blinking up at him, not knowing what it was that he wanted from her. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"You haven't _failed_; you're the bloody _Hero_ of Fereldan for Maker's sake! And before you can say anything, you _earned_ the bloody title so you might as well get used to it! There's only so much one person can take, and you've taken more than your fare share. Andraste's _mercy_, woman, after everything you've been through, you have to be the bloody strongest person I've ever met!" Anders cried, looking as if he were about to shake her until she accepted his words.

"Why are you afraid?" he seethed,.

"What?" she asked, confused at the sudden change of topics. "Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of _life,_" he hissed. "How do you think you will ever learn to let him go if you do not _live_?"

"I don't understand," she said, her voice shaking with a sort of strange, unexpected anxiousness. He was staring at her again, hazel eyes drilling into hers with an intensity she had never seen before…not from _him_ at any rate. She gasped, eyes widening with sudden understanding. When he spoke again it was as if the world around her had stopped, and the only thing in existence was the words that would change everything between them…one way or another.

"Let it go, Falcon…let _him_ go, and move on with your life…with me."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Half Remembered Dream" by Hans Zimmer (Inception OST); "Padme's Rumination's" by John Williams (Revenge of the Sith OST); "Sorrow" by Klaus Badelt & Lisa Gerard (Gladiator OST); "I Rise, You Fall," by Steve Jablonsky (Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen OST); and "Killed by a God" by Ramin Djawadi ("Clash of the Titans OST). _


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 - Complications**

He'd surprised her.

That much was evident by her soft intake of breath and gentle, "Beg pardon?"

"You heard me," he replied in a low, husky voice.

"Anders, I…" she began, eyeing him wearily as she chewed on her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit of hers, one he had seen her do on numerous occasions. It never failed to pull at him in the most sensual of ways, and today was no exception. In the past he was always able to conceal her affect on him, but after the events of the past few days he had reached his breaking point. He had almost lost her for Maker's sake, and to see her alive and so typically_ Falcon _was enough to crumble the last vestiges of his self-control. He watched like a man possessed as a row of tiny, white teeth pulled over that full, luscious lower lip of hers and groaned, once, deep in his throat before leaning forward to claim her lips with his own. He reveled in the soft warmth of her lips as he moved his mouth over hers in a slow, sensual caress meant to simultaneously sooth and excite. He could taste the surprise on her lips and when she gasped he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss even further.

A thousand thoughts flitted through Anders head, even as his body was rocked by a powerful surge of heat. That this was perhaps the worst timing _ever_ was amongst the first, followed by a series of thoughts lost within the tidal wave of sensations the feel of her tongue against his created deep inside.

_Maker, she tastes even better than I could've ever imagined, _he thought as he gave in to his baser instincts.

A nagging voice at the back of his head reminded him of all that he had witnessed in his expedition through the fade to retrieve her. It told him to be cautious…that she had just been through an ordeal…that she clearly wasn't ready for _this_ and all that it implied. So he kept it short, light and teasing, giving her just a hint of what would come were she to choose it…choose _him_.

Somewhere amongst his musings and the haze of lust that had settled over him Anders thought he heard a door open and then quietly close again but he swiftly dismissed it as a trick of the ear. Even so he cared little about what the others might think of his intentions. _Let them see me with her, _he thought with a confidence as natural to him as air.

As he pulled away Anders noted the look of astonishment still present on Falcon's face. Obviously she had been affected by his touch though how, he could not tell by her expression. He could see the moment she mentally shook herself free of the lingering effects of his kiss and stifled the chuckle that rose to his throat. When she opened her mouth to speak he hushed her with a finger gently pressed to her lips. Her eyebrows shot up in question, but she complied with his silent command nonetheless.

"I think I have an idea of what you're about to say, and I—"he began, swallowing back the nervous lump suddenly lodged somewhere between his heart and his lungs. He cleared his throat, but even then his voice remained thick and raspy. _Get it together you coward! _He told himself before forcing himself to continue. "I know this is rather sudden, but please…just…think about it first."

Falcon eyed him quietly, her cerulean eyes intense and unreadable as they bore deep into his own hazel gaze. He could feel sweat forming within the palms of his hands as he waited for her to say something…_anything. _When no answer was forthcoming he stood to leave, crestfallen by her silence but determined to remain optimistic. He stopped abruptly in the doorway, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

_Maybe she's afraid I'll leave if she refuses me, _he wondered_, _though the very idea of being rejected at all tore at his insides. He looked back at her over his shoulder, doing his best to keep his inner turmoil from showing in his expression.

"Falcon," he began in a soft, unwavering voice. "Whatever you choose, I will stand by my oath. You shall always have me as a warden and as a friend…no matter what you decide. I swear it."

She visibly relaxed at his words, nodding once in acknowledgment. When it was apparent that she would not do or say anything further Anders took his leave, resolved to win her…no matter the cost.

Alyx was in shock.

_Did that really just happen? _Alyx thought frantically as her heart and mind raced. _Anders kissed me…_Anders_! Oh, Maker!_

She should have seen it coming. All the signs had been there, Oghren and Zevran had even warned her as much but she had ignored them…nay, she had dismissed it out of hand. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _She chided herself as her throat tightened painfully.

She didn't know how to react or what to think or feel. This, _all_ of this, was far too overwhelming and complicated for her befuddled nerves. She was so wrapped up in the maelstrom of her thoughts that she didn't hear the door creak open or see the figure that stepped inside until she heard an all-too familiar voice gasp her name. Her head snapped up at the sound.

"Fergus!" she breathed, a wide smile automatically spreading across her face until she took in his pale face and shaking hands. She hadn't seen her brother like this since…a sudden fear crept over her. "Fergus, what is it?" she asked him, voice shaking with uncertainty.

"You're awake," he rasped and then swiftly crossed the room and dropped to his knees beside the bed, staring at her as if he couldn't quite believe his own eyes. He reached out to lightly run his knuckles over her cheek, his face crumbling as he buried his head in her lap.

Alyx was shocked all over again. Here was her proud, self-confident brother, her pillar of strength, falling to pieces before her very eyes. Tears climbed into her throat as she heard his muffled "I'm sorry," before his shoulders began to shake with silent sobs.

"Shhh, I'm alright," she said soothingly as she placed a hand on his head. Fergus sniffed and looked up at her, grief twisting his beloved features.

"Maker, Alyx. I thought I'd lost you," he said through his tears. "That in itself was hard enough, but to think that the last words I said to you were born of my own stubborn foolishness…it was too much to bear."

"All is forgiven, dearest," she said, a poignant smile tugging at her lips as she smoothed his dark hair back from out of his face.

It was a gesture she had seen her mother do on countless occasions in their youth. The thought was bittersweet and made her long for those rare, cherished moments she and her mother used to share when the castle grew quiet and Eleanor Cousland could simply be "Mother" instead of Teryna. _How I miss you Mama, _she thought longingly before turning her attention back to her brother.

With a sigh Fergus stood and found a chair to place by the bedside, running his hands through his hair as he sat. She was relieved to see something of his typical buoyancy return with the color in his face as he threw an arm over the back of the chair and crossed his legs in a wholly masculine fashion.

"You scared about ten years off my life, pup. Could you at least try not to get yourself killed on a regular basis?" Fergus drawled, making her chuckle.

"Can't promise anything, brother. Not with the darkspawn throwing themselves at me every chance they get…but I will make a concerted effort just for you," she replied, humor warming her voice.

"I know your position is a dangerous one, but the darkspawn were not responsible for poisoning you," he said seriously, lips thinning in tempered anger.

"_Poison?_" she gasped in surprise.

"You…but you do you not remember?" Fergus asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"No, of course not why would I …hold on. How long have I been out?" she asked in confusion.

"Nearly four days."

"That long?" she gasped, raising a hand to her forehead as she tried to wrap her brain around that.

"What is the last thing you recall?" he asked.

She thought long and hard, trying to piece together the events leading up to her excursion into the fade. Slowly, things began to come back to her.

"I remember sitting down to supper...I was still upset over our argument, so I wasn't really paying attention…I began to feel tired…exhausted really, but I assumed it was due to the strain of the day…" Here her thoughts began to grow murky, just as they had that evening. She concentrated hard, trying to relive that night in as much detail as she could, sifting through the memories for anything useful. "I excused myself before the end of the meal, but when I stood...I _knew_ something wasn't quite right, but I couldn't put my finger on it…and then…"

Then she found herself in a strange place, not quite of this world, but not quite of the next. It was a place that was inherently alien, so completely _other_ that it was impossible to describe its complexity to another. She couldn't say how long she was in that world. Time and space did not exist there…nothing did but the weightless, mindless sensation of simply _being_. And then afterwards…her personal, recurring nightmare brought to life by the demon that had trapped her there. She shuddered at the memory.

"And then?" Fergus prompted, reminding her of his presence.

"Nothing," she lied, refusing to worry her brother further by telling him of the weaknesses that ensnared her in the demon's trap.

Fergus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Something in his expression told her he didn't quite believe her, but he let it go unremarked.

"Are you sure it was poison?" she asked him, head tilting in curiosity.

"Positive," he confirmed. "While Anders concentrated on healing you Zevran was quietly investigating the household. He discovered that the maid that served you your wine was an agent of Bann Esmerelle's. She confessed, and has since offered her life in exchange for the names of the other conspirators. We were waiting for you to recover before taking action."

"Good," Alyx replied with a curt nod. "I shall like to have a little 'talk' with this woman myself."

"I thought as much," Fergus said with a chuckle before his expression turned serious once again. "We have concealed her imprisonment in the attempt to keep word from leaking out to her masters, though no doubt by now they have realized the jig is up."

"Perhaps, but we cannot know that for sure," she said with a heavy sigh. "I suppose I got what I deserved. I've known of the conspiracy against me for some time now. Indeed, I suspected Esmerelle almost from the very beginning, but I had no evidence to convict her. Spiteful bitch," she spat with an indelicate snort.

"One of the many things you _should_ have told me," Fergus muttered.

"Yes, well, this is not the first time someone has tried to have me killed and I doubt it shall be the last."

"That is…unsettling, sister," Fergus replied carefully.

"Oh, do not worry about me," she said as she leaned over and patted him on the thigh, a cheeky grin spreading across her face. "I'm harder to kill than an ogre with a toothache."

He rolled his eyes at her, but laughed despite himself.

"I pray that is true, for I cannot afford to lose you, too."

Alyx's expression immediately crumbled at his words, but he raised a hand and shook his head before she could respond. He sighed again, squeezing her hand between his own as he looked deep into her eyes. Her heart ached at the pain in his expression.

"I meant what I said earlier. I _am_ sorry," He continued once he collected himself enough to speak. "I had no right to question your judgment or to behave so badly…especially in front of Jocelyn. I…you know my temper, pup. How could I _not_ react in such a fashion without so much as a warning?"

_Ah, so we are back to Nathaniel, _she thought, though she was unsurprised at the change in topics.

"I know, Fergus, I know. I didn't expect anything less, truth be told. But that is the very reason I hesitated to tell you in the first place. Had I known that you were paying me a visit I _would_ have forewarned you of Nate's presence here," she replied, doing her best to keep the judgment from out of her voice.

"Yes, well _that_ was my wife's idea," he said, looking sheepish despite his words. "I wanted to send word but you know Leliana. Once she's set her mind to something…"

"Indeed,"Alyx replied with a chuckle. "And I _am_ glad that you came to visit, despite the…er…obstacles."

Fergus grimaced at her choice of words, but let it pass unremarked.

"I will say this last thing, and then I will drop it all together," he said instead, uncrossing his legs and leaning heavily on his thighs. "I cannot help the way I feel. I will probably never be comfortable with the fact that there is a Howe in your household, but I will concede that I _might_ have been wrong about his character. I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but for _your_ sake, not his."

_Hmm, I wonder what made him change his mind, _she mused, but did not vocalize her query.

"That is all I can ask," she said meaningfully. "I understand your trepidation brother, more than anyone else ever could, but he _is_ a good man. Of this I could not be more certain."

"You…aren't…sleeping with him, are you?" Fergus asked hesitantly.

"Fergus!" Alyx gasped, trying not to laugh.

"Maker, _tell me_ you aren't sleeping with him!" The pained look on her brother's face could only be described as comical.

"You hardly have a say in who I am or am not having intimate relations with, but no," she replied quietly. "No, I'm not sleeping with him."

"But you care for him," he pressed, squeezing her hand even tighter.

His insistence confused her but knowing her brother he wouldn't let it drop until he had her answer.

"I—"she began, but before she could finish her thought the door swung open.

"Well! Anders told me you were awake, but I'm glad to see it for myself," a familiar voice chimed from the doorway.

"Wynne!" Alyx cried in delighted surprise. "But what are you doing here? I thought you were in Nevarra!"

"That, my dear, is a very long story," Wynne replied with a chuckle as she crossed the room. She was carrying a tray brimming with an assortment of breakfast foods that made her mouth water in anticipation. Wynne chuckled again as Aly'x stomach audibly growled in response. "I thought you might be hungry."Here," she said as she placed the tray in Alyx's lap. "Eat, and I'll tell you the tale while you enjoy your meal."

"My thanks," Alyx replied gratefully as she breathed in the delectable aroma wafting up from the tray.

"You're more than welcome, my dear. Now, as for _you_," Wynne continued as she turned to face Fergus, hands on her hips akimbo. "Shoo! You can visit with your sibling again later. Alyxandria needs to regain her strength in peace."

Fergus let out a heavy sigh in mock disappointment as he stood.

"As you say my Lady mage," he said with a flowery bow.

He leaned over and kissed Alyx on the forehead before turning and surprising them both by placing a quick peck on Wynne's weathered cheek as well.

"None of that now, young man!" Wynne gasped as she playfully swatted at Fergus's arm. "Just wait until I tell your wife that you're so free with your kisses!"

"She already knows, my good woman, and still decided to marry me," Fergus replied with a shrug and a cheeky grin before walking past her and through the open door.

Wynne chuckled and shook her head in disbelief as she took Fergus's vacated chair.

"That brother of yours is an irascible flirt," she muttered.

"You love it and you _know_ it," Alyx replied, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Now, tell me why you're here and not off brow beating those pesky libertarians."

"Brow beating indeed," Wynne sighed. "I would have gone ages ago, but delay after delay kept me in Amaranthine. Now I see that it was the Maker's work, barring me from leaving when the greater need was here."

"But how did you know?" Alyx asked in confusion. "About my poisoning that is?"

"I didn't. The Howe boy found me at the docks just as I was about to board a ship and told me what had happened. I couldn't leave in good conscious, not without seeing you were alright for myself, so I agreed to come back with him. Poor lad. He rode hard, stopping only to change horses. Did Anders not tell you all of this?"

"I suspect he had other things on his mind," Alyx murmured, trying very hard to keep her thoughts focused on Wynne and _not_ on this morning's 'chat' with Anders.

"Yes, I suppose he would. You gave him quite the scare," Wynne replied warmly, either not noticing her unease or choosing not to comment on it. "At any rate, I'm glad that I went with my instinct. Anders may be a talented healer, but he has little experience in dealing with the fade. Even had he the knowledge, there wouldn't have been enough mages on hand to send someone past the veil had I not been here…not without the use of blood magic anyhow."

"Thank you, Wynne. I can never repay you for being here when you could have easily continued on to Cumberland," Alyx said. "Will they be very angry with you?"

"The college? They have waited this long for me, they can wait a little longer," Wynne replied warmly as she squeezed Alyx's hand. "And you're very welcome, my dear, though your gratitude is unnecessary. I've long thought of you as more like a daughter than anything, and would never wish any harm to befall you."

"I've often thought the same," Alyx practically whispered as tears pricked at the back of her eyes. "There were times during the blight that I missed my mother terribly. Having you along gave me a comfort I hadn't realized I needed, and then everything you did for me…with Jocelyn..."

"Think nothing of it," Wynne replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, though her own eyes had a misted over. "You have done more for all of us than any one person could ever hope to repay. You, above any other I have met in my long life, are worthy of saving."

Alyx didn't know how to respond to her words. She didn't think she deserved Wynne's judgment of her, but she appreciated the thought despite her own personal opinions.

"Nathaniel must think very highly of you for him to seek me out as he did. The man went without rest or sustenance for days to ensure your survival," Wynne said, easily moving from one topic to another. "Then again, I shouldn't be very surprised. You gain loyalty as easily as a bird takes to flight."

"As easily as a _chicken_ takes to flight perhaps," Alyx murmured in return, producing yet another chuckle from her old friend. "Where is he?"

"Nathaniel? I haven't seen him since I sent him off to bed last night. Don't look at me that way, child! The poor man was dead on his feet!" Wynne cried, making Alyx stifle a laugh. "I swear that young man is nearly as stubborn as you are!"

"More so," Alyx murmured.

"Perish the thought!"Wynne cried, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement. "I like him, Alyxandria. For what little that I've learned of him from our trip back to the Vigil, he seems like a fine young man. A little reserved, but certainly with all the qualities one would hope to find in a Grey Warden. Not many people would do what he did for you, without a second thought to his own well-being or reputation."

"Reputation?" Alyx repeated in confusion.

Wynne hesitated, but only for a moment.

"Leliana and Zevran both told me that the others believed that he was responsible for poisoning you."

"What? But why?" Alyx gasped.

"He left without leaving word as to where he was going or what he was about. Add the fact that he is well versed in poisons _and_ a Howe and, well…I think you can see where this is going."

"Indeed," Alyx murmured. "Nathaniel is a man of action, not words. It would be just like him to do such a thing. It seems that I'll have to have a few words with my _friends_."

"Don't be too angry with them, dearest. Anyone would have thought the same given the evidence, and they don't know him as you seem to…just where do you think you're going young lady?" Wynne cried as Alyx put aside the food tray and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"I have to find him, Wynne."

"But surely you can wait? No doubt he'll come calling once he hears that you're awake..."

"Not if he thinks I believe him responsible. _Please_, Wynne. Our friendship is precarious as it is," she pleaded.

"Oh, alright," Wynne said eventually with a sigh. "There's no use arguing with you, you'll do as you please anyway. Just take it slow and _be careful_. The moment you feel at all fatigued you come right back up to bed, you hear me young lady?"

"I hear you, Wynne, and thank you!" she said as she threw her arms around the older woman's neck.

"Alright, alright, that's enough of that now. Leliana was reading to Jocelyn in the study, I think I'll just head down there to join them. Perhaps you can stop by if you feel up to it? Your daughter has missed you sorely these past few days," Wynne said.

"Yes, of course. I'll be there shortly," Alyx replied distractedly, feeling guilty for not immediately asking after Jocelyn the moment she woke, but then again she _had_ been preoccupied ever since her eyes had opened. She stopped what she was doing mid-action, chewing on her bottom lip as she silently weighed her options. She wouldn't have much more time with Jocelyn, but surely it would only take a minute to find Nate and thank him? Decision made, Alyx quickly dressed and with an air of determination, left to find Nathaniel.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Some Things Too Late, Others to Early" by Rachel Portman ("The Duchess OST); "Forrest Meets Forrest" by Alan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST); "Sunrise on Lake Pontchartrain" by Alexandre Desplat (Curious Case of Benjamin Button OST)_


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 - Epiphany**

Nate paced the armory like a caged beast, a murderous rage pulsing through his veins like poison. He couldn't recall the last time he had ever been this angry…perhaps never, though it hardly mattered. The action didn't really seem to be taming his temper at any rate. Instead it was simply keeping it at bay until some unsuspecting fool was thick enough to approach him. Absentmindedly, he ran a hand across his jaw-line and then scowled at the feel of the thick stubble that had grown in over the past few days. He wanted badly to shave, but he didn't trust himself with a straight-razor. Not in his current mood. He silently added the fact to a steadily growing mental list of grievances, the bulk of which had occurred in the short time since he opened his eyes this morning.

He had startled awake only to find himself sweat-drenched and disoriented. At first he couldn't even remember where he was but then the memory of his arrival at the Vigil the evening before returned to him, as well as the reason for the anxiety pressing against his chest.

_Lexy. _

He immediately jumped out of bed, hastily donning the first set of clean clothes that he could find before hurling open his chamber door and practically running down the hallway. No one had disturbed him in the night, which should have been a good sign, but he couldn't help the panic that still rose within his chest. He had to know that she was alive, needed to see it with his own eyes and feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. Only then could he truly breathe again.

In his haste Nate hadn't even thought about knocking first. In hindsight he wished he had. He might have still been in the dark, but at least it would have saved him from a measure of unnecessary pain. Even now, hours later, he couldn't sponge away the image that had driven him to his current madness…Alyx and Anders…locked in a passionate embrace.

He couldn't recall everything that had passed through his mind at that moment, but there were two things he remembered with perfect clarity. Firstly, the joy of finding her not only alive but awake, and the second being his sudden and violent reaction to seeing her in another man's arms. He wanted to take the arrogant bastard by the scruff of his neck and throw him clear across the room and then wrap his hands around his throat and squeeze until he choked the very life from his slimy, two-timing throat. It was a measure of his self-control that he simply turned and walked away, closing the door quietly behind him.

He had headed towards his rooms first but then abruptly changed his mind as well as his direction. He wasn't sure what led him to the armory. Perhaps it was due to the familiarity of the place (for it was one of the only rooms in the keep that hadn't changed over the years) or maybe it was the scent of leather and polishing oil that had always acted as a balm to him in the past. Only those same, long cherished smells now served to remind him of _her._

As he paced his anger grew, though the voice of reason kept trying to intercede on his behalf.

_She has every right to choose who she pleases, you have no claim over her, _it would whisper in his ear and then, _Perhaps you misunderstood?_

_Misunderstood? How I could I have misunderstood? The man had his bloody tongue shoved down her throat! _He growled at the voice.

The silent conversation went on for a while longer, but eventually he told reason to bugger off and went back to being sullen. It was his own fault after all. Had he told her how he felt, _he_ might have been the one to greet her with a kiss when she awoke.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an all-too familiar voice called from the doorway…a sound, until this morning, he thought to never hear again.

He froze and turned to see Alyx standing just inside the door, hands folded demurely in front of her. She was wearing a forest-green gown that clung to her petite body in all of the right places. The color brought out the subtle red hues of her hair, which had been left free to spill down her back in soft waves. It wasn't fair, that she could look so utterly unaffected by her recent brush with death. In fact, she looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with mirth and just the slightest hint of reproof…no doubt from making her search for him.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he snapped, not meaning to be so short with her but not being able to help himself.

"I think I've spent more than enough time resting, thank you very much," she replied without blinking an eye at his terseness. "And if you're curious, Wynne approved as long as I took it easy."

"Fine. Was there something you wanted?" he growled.

She hesitated, but only for a second.

"Yes, in fact," she replied, her chin going up a notch. "Wynne told me of the service you rendered me and I wanted to offer you my heartfelt thanks. From what I'm told it was a close thing. Had you not gone after Wynne I might not be standing here today, and for that I am most grateful."

"Right, brilliant. You've said your peace. Now if you would, leave me be," he said in even, clipped tones before he returned to his pacing.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

He stopped once again and shot a scathing look at her. He couldn't stand the warmth in her voice or the compassion in her eyes. It pulled at something deep inside of him that threatened to unleash the monster seething just below the surface. He balled his hands into fists before she noticed that they were shaking with the force of his emotions. When she stepped closer he visibly stiffened, causing her to real back as if he had physically slapped her.

"I'm fine," he ground out between clamped teeth.

"No you're not. What is it?" she asked softly.

"I said I'm fine. _Leave me_."

"And I say you're _not_. Now answer the question," she demanded, voice rising to match his own.

"Damn it woman, can't you just take a bloody hint for once in your life? I wish to be left in peace!" he snarled.

"And I want an answer to my question!"

"I'm warning you—"

"Don't you threaten me Nathaniel Howe!" she yelled, her temper finally flaring. "Just what the hell is wrong with you? I came down here to thank you and you practically bite my head off!"

"I saw you kissing him!" he yelled, wishing at once that he could take the words back.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, but almost immediately snapped shut again. At first he thought she was going to deny it but then her face flushed prettily in anger.

"_Who do you think you are_?" she hissed at him. "You aren't my brother, my _husband_ to tell me who I may or may not consort with. What gives you the right to demand sovereignty over my actions? I'm a grown woman and can bloody well kiss whomever I please, _when_ I please!"

He knew that she was right, but that didn't stop Nathaniel from bellowing at her like an ill-mannered peasant. He began to pace once again, his arms gesturing wildly as he flung himself around the room to prove whatever point he was attempting to make. All the while she just stood there staring daggers at him, arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. He was well aware that he wasn't making sense. Hell, he forgot the words almost before they even finished leaving his mouth, and yet he continued on, pausing only when his lungs demanded air. When he finished the silence was deafening by comparison.

"I see," she said in deceivingly soft tones after what seemed like a lifetime. "That is all very…interesting, Nathaniel. Yet somehow in your idiotic rant you forgot to mention a _reason." _

And just like that the last remnants of his self-control snapped. He quickly closed the distance between them, roughly cupping her face in his hands as he crushed his mouth to hers.

Nate greedily devoured her lips, tasting her as he had wanted to since that long ago night in Amaranthine. There was nothing gentle about his kiss nor did he intend there to be. He wanted to erase the memory of _his _taste from her mouth and replace it with his own. He wanted to make her forget that the mage ever existed at all. He stifled a moan of appreciation as his hands moved to the nape of her neck, fingers plunging into the silken strands of her hair as he deepened the kiss even further. He put _everything_ into that kiss; all his anger, confusion, frustration and longing, all of the pent up emotions that he rigidly kept in check, pouring from his lips into hers. He could no longer deny or ignore the deep abiding need that had been steadily building within his heart until it was ready to burst. With every stroke of his tongue over hers his body growled _mine _ever more fervently_, _demanding that he claim her in every way possible. Yet a small corner of his mind that remained logical kept him in check, reminding him that this was neither the place nor the time.

When he was finally able to pull himself away his breath was ragged, coming in deep wrenching gasps. He kept his hands tangled within her hair, not quite ready to let her go entirely. He couldn't help but take some satisfaction from her dazed expression and swollen lips, though the sight in and of itself was something akin to torture to his long abused libido.

"That," he said between deep gasps of air when he was finally calm enough to speak, "Should be sufficient reason for you."

Only then did he let her go.

Without another word, he turned on his heal and stalked away before he could do anything even more irreparable. He tried not to think about the way she looked as he left, frozen in place in the middle of the room, one hand raised to her mouth as if she couldn't quite believe what he'd just done. He had a feeling that image would be burned in his head for years to come.

_Maker, I need a cold bath! _He thought. _Make that _several_ cold baths…_or as many as it took to calm the need that was currently pounding through his body like a sledgehammer. It was going to be a _very_ long night.

Alyx sunk to the floor the moment the door closed behind Nate's retreating form, breathing deep, unsteady breaths of air in and out as she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. He had kissed her.

_And quite thoroughly at that, _she thought, her face flushing with color as she remembered the way his mouth had move over hers, demanding entrance. Had she kissed him back? She couldn't remember if she had or not. All she knew was that she had been kissed not once but twice today.

_Assaulted more like, _she thought wryly. Neither time did the man in question give her the benefit of a choice or the chance to get a word in edgewise after the fact. _Unbelievable! _She seethed as a deep and sudden anger bubbled up inside of her. _Those arrogant, selfish, pig-headed…nug-herders! _

Alyx jumped to her feet, suddenly feeling the need to do something other than sit and wonder if the world had gone crazy. She stormed from the armory, intent in every line of her body as she crossed the great hall and slammed open the study door. Neither Wynne nor Leliana jumped at her show of temper.

"Is it just me or are the words 'kiss me' tattooed across my forehead?" she growled at her friends as she closed the study door behind her.

"Mama!" Jocelyn's small voice piped as the little girl threw herself at Alyx, despite her mother's obvious foul mood.

Alyx spared a smile for her child and swung her up into her arms. She squeezed Jocelyn close for a moment, kissing the top of her head as she crossed the room and dropped into a chair between Wynne and Leliana. She set Jocelyn in her lap, but the little girl had spotted Ser-Pounce-a-Lot entering the room and was soon wiggling to get free again. Alyx sighed and let her go, watching as her daughter chased after the kitten with an enthusiasm only a child could have.

"Ooh! Who's been kissing you?" Leliana asked, her attention immediately captured by Alyx's words.

"Anders _and _Nathaniel both," she spat as she stood again, pacing the small area by the hearth as she spoke. "Without so much as a by-your-leave, thank you very much! And then they both had the nerve to stalk off without even giving me a chance to say a word! Had I not been so shocked I might've murdered the pair of them just for being so infuriatingly _male!" _she sputtered in anger, unable to come up with a better word for "pompous, controlling asshole." Of course a voice in the back of her head reminded her that Anders at least _had_ given her a chance. She'd just been so taken aback that she hadn't been able to get a single word past her suddenly frozen vocal cords.

"Both of them?" Leliana crowed just as Wynne said, "Well, well. They do work fast don't they now?" with an amused chuckle.

"You knew about this?" Alyx asked, eyes narrowing in accusation at her friends.

"About their interest in you? Of course we did but it was hardly a secret, my dear. You were likely the only one who _didn't _know."

"And we did try to warn you," Leliana interjected, a smirk crossing her face. Alyx scowled even deeper as she crossed her arms in front of her and huffed.

"Wonderful. That's just perfect. Because I _needed_ to be worried about whether my men are concentrating more on the darkspawn or the way my ass looks in my armor!" Alyx said sarcastically.

Leliana giggled and put aside the parchment sitting in her lap to lean forward with an all-too familiar interested sparkle in her eyes.

"Go on then! Tell us all the juicy details! Who's the better kisser?"

"Leliana! I'm _not_ going to compare their kissing styles!" Alyx hissed.

"Oh, _please _Falcon! We haven't talked about men in _ages_ and I miss our late night conversations. Just a couple of the _tiniest_ details, pleeeease?" Leliana solicited, silently begging Alyx with her eyes.

"Out of the question, Leli."

"Oh, poo. You're no fun!" Leliana pouted. "But you are at least planning on making love to one of them, yes?"

"Leli—"

"That they are both handsome is not in question. It is more a matter of preference," Leliana continued, her eyes turning dreamy.

"I'd rather not—"

"Anders looks like he would show a girl a good time between the sheets. He has a wild look about him that could easily translate to love-making, no? And he _is_ a knowledgeable flirt."

"_Leli—"_

"And then there's Nathaniel, with those intense, stormy eyes of his, mmm. He seems like the sort who would keep a girl coming back for more. After all, Lady Cecily always used to say that it is the quiet ones you need to watch for."

"And this coming from a married woman," Wynne murmured.

"What? I may be married but I'm not dead. Appreciating handsome men is like appreciating the bouquet of a fine wine. Do you not agree?"

"You are absolutely incorrigible!" Alyx gasped in consternation as Wynne shook her head in disbelief.

"So…which one is it?" Leliana pressed.

"Which one what?" Alyx asked, an innocent look on her face.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I mean. Who do you want to be with?" Leliana said with another giggle.

"Alistair."

Wynne sighed and Leliana rolled her eyes.

"I know you miss him, dear, but…perhaps it is time to start considering your options?" Wynne said carefully.

"Options?" Alyx repeated, lips thinning into an angry line. "What _options_ Wynne? The man I love is _dead_."

"Yes he is. You, however, are not." Wynne replied quietly, rare temper flaring to life in her eyes so quick Alyx almost missed it. "You're life didn't end when his did yet you act as if it had. How is that fair to you, or to Jocelyn?"

"She's right, ma petite," Leliana interjected. "You are a young, vibrant and passionate woman, who has far too much to offer to spend the rest of your life pining for a dead man."

"Alistair—"

"Would want you to be happy. It's all he _ever_ wanted for you," Wynne interjected. "Even when he was alive had you asked for him to release you, he would have."

"I would never!" Alyx gasped.

"I know you wouldn't have, dear, it was just an example to prove my point. He would have done anything you asked if it meant that you were happy."

"Don't you want to find love again? To have some semblance of peace and happiness while you still can?" Leliana asked her.

"Peace? Happiness? I'm a _Grey Warden_, Leliana," Alyx said with a disbelieving snort.

"Yet you were able to find such things with Alistair," Leliana reminded her.

That gave Alyx pause. _She's right, I did. _It didn't change anything though.

"Why do you run from happiness, Falcon?"

"I do not run from-!" Alyx began, cutting her words off abruptly as she pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. With a sigh she continued. "Do you have any idea how complicated this could get, were I to choose one of my men over the other? Not to mention the fact that I'm their _superior_. Besides, it's not just a matter of hurting one or both of their feelings; it could mean the difference between life and death! None of us can afford to be distracted in the field. You've fought darkspawn; you know how dangerous it is."

"So wait until you've dealt with the darkspawn and _then_ decide…though no doubt by then you'd have another excuse prepared for me."

"It is _not_ an excuse—"

"But it is, and a clever one at that. To be honest I would think having another grey warden as a lover would be quite convenient for you. You wouldn't have to worry about accidentally divulging in your Order's secrets, and if anything about the warden stamina is true, then, that would make you a very lucky girl indeed…_is_ it true?"

"_Leli." _

"Right. Never mind then."

"We're not telling you to choose one or the other or anyone for that matter, only for you to at least consider the possibility," Wynne interjected. "Life is too short as it is, and though I would not pretend to understand the inner-workings of the wardens or to be privy to the Order's secrets, I _am_ quite an observant woman. The fact that it is rare to see a warden of more than two score and ten tells me that _your_ time is all the more precious. Don't gamble it away child!You are at the cusp of your prime with so many experiences still left unlived…would it be so terrible to have someone to spend it with? Someone who could be a father figure to your daughter and a life-mate to yourself?"

"_And_…as wonderful as all of that sounds, would it not hurt for you to at least have a little fun every once and awhile?" Leliana added with a wink, making Alyx stifle a laugh.

"Though I don't condone Leliana's idea of 'having fun' willy-nilly, I couldn't see how it could hurt either," Wynne said, clearing her throat and refusing to look at either Leliana or Alyx after her last statement.

"Why Wynne! Are you suggesting that I sleep with my subordinates?" Alyx asked the older woman, a mock look of innocence written across her face.

"No, of course not, why would I… o_oh_, don't you sass me young lady!" Wynne said with a swat to Alyx's thigh, causing her to burst out laughing. "Just remember that you came to us with this and not the other way around!"

Alyx immediately stopped laughing.

"I didn't come here for advice, Wynne. I came to you because…well, because I was upset and…Maker, I don't know," she said, running a hand through her hair.

"And I can't tell you how happy that makes me," Wynne replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. "After what Anders told us about your experience in the fade I was afraid that you would shut down again, just as you did after the blight. For months you wouldn't talk to any of us about your troubles. That you can come to us now says a lot."

"Oh Falcon, don't you see?" Leliana cried softly, her eyes shining with excitement. "One of them must have sparked something inside you. Otherwise you wouldn't be so upset about something as simple as a kiss."

"My dear, I think not only are you ready to move on, I believe your heart has already chosen…whether you like it or not," Wynne added.

"I—"Alyx began, looking from one to the other, but she didn't know what else to say. Were they right? Had she let another slip into her heart unbeknownst to her?

She didn't know anymore. She had spent the last couple of years trying to close her heart off, why should she recognize its needs when she had stopped listening long ago?

She was lying to herself. She had refused to compare Anders and Nathaniel earlier not because of any sense of modesty, but because she had no need to. Wynne was right. Her heart _had_ chosen, she had just been ignoring the telltale signs. Apparently all it took for her to realize it was someone to point it out to her. A deep well of pent up emotions flooded through her, making her gasp as the sheer intensity of it all. Her heart lurched painfully in her chest, tears pricking at the back of her eyes as the truth swept over her. It was too much.

"Maker's mercy," she whispered painfully. "I…I'm sorry, I can't—"

Then without another word she fled the room, leaving Wynne and Leliana staring after her in utter shock.

"What was that?" Leliana asked Wynne.

"_That_, my dear, was acknowledgment," Wynne replied, a satisfied smile crossing her lips.

"Ack—you mean? But _who?"_ Leliana cried in surprise.

"_You_ are the one who used to be the bard, Leliana. If you were to use those hard-won skills of yours, I think you'd find that it is all too clear."

"Can't you just tell me?" Leliana pouted.

"That would be cheating," Wynne chuckled.

"You're right. Far more fun to try and get Falcon to spill the peas herself," Leliana replied, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"That is beans, Leliana. _Beans._"

"What do beans have to do with it?" Leliana replied, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Beans!" Jocelyn crowed, making both women laugh. Leliana crossed the room and picked the little girl up, bouncing her in her arms as she stared out the window in thought.

"Do you truly think she's ready?" Leliana asked Wynne after a time.

"I hope so, Leliana. I truly hope so…for both their sakes."

She was running.

As fast and as far as her legs could carry her in her current state of dress. After the first couple of times she stumbled over her skirts she simply scooped them up and continued her mad dash across the keep. She didn't know where she was headed; only that she had to get away, though she knew in her heart there was no escaping the truth.

How she ended up in the garden, she never could say.

It was pitiful place. They hadn't had the resources to keep a gardener for some time now. The last one had been killed in the darkspawn raid, and there were far more important things to worry about than topiary. So despite the fact that it was nearly mid-summer, the small, enclosed courtyard gave the impression that they were nearing the end of fall instead. No doubt there was a time when it had been a beautiful garden, with flowers and shrubs that flourished in all the splendor the Maker had intended, but now it was a mere shadow of its former glory. It was a suitable landscape for Alyx's current mood, though she wouldn't have noticed one way or another.

She finally came to a halt at the foot of a crumbling stone bench, falling to her knees as she threw her arms atop the sun-warmed slab and dropped her head within them. Only then did she allow the tears to come. Great, painful sobs ripped through her chest and up her throat, making her shoulders heave with their intensity.

She knew she was being silly. Most women would be overjoyed to discover themselves in love, but to her it felt more like a betrayal than anything...and in more ways than one.

_Damn him, _she silently seethed. _Damn him for making me feel again! _

She had never wanted to feel this way again; had in fact vowed to herself that she never would. Thus began the process of closing her heart to any and all advances, and there had been many over the years. They had come in droves in the months following the blight, and not just nobleman either. Most were simply there for the chance to gain whatever political or monetary reward that they believed would come from winning her hand. Some came for the thrill of courting the Hero of Fereldan, and even fewer for her reported beauty and charm. No matter their reasons, none had gained her notice or affection…until now.

_How_ did he get past her barriers, and why? How did she not even notice the changes taking place within her, and who knew that it would _hurt_ so much, this restarting of her heart?

_Damn him._

Her tears spent, Alyx sat up and wiped her eyes, sniffling pathetically as she tried to regain her composure. She pulled the chain around her neck from out of her bodice and stared down at the familiar amulet resting in her palm. She traced her thumb over the fading symbol of Andraste's flame and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

_I'm sorry my love, _she whispered in her head, guilt racking her body with grief. _The night we married I swore to love you and no other for the rest of my days. I love you still, but…_she swallowed hard…_you're not here and I…cannot deny that I have grown to care for another. Andraste's ass! Why does everything have to be so bloody complicated? _

"Mama?" A small voice called from behind her.

Alyx snapped her head around to see Jocelyn standing just a few feet away, her eyes wide and lower lip trembling at the sight of her mother's tears. Alyx's heart twisted in her chest. She sniffed and reached for her daughter, wrapping her arms tightly around her as she clutched her to her chest.

"Shh, Mama's alright," she rasped as she smoothed the blond curls back across her head. "Just a little melancholy is all."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Leliana standing at a distance and knew her friend was responsible for bringing her daughter to her. Normally she would be annoyed with such interference but at present she could only be grateful. Jocelyn was exactly what she needed right now to keep herself grounded.

"It'll be okay," she whispered into her daughter's hair as she rocked her back and forth, desperately wishing she could believe her own words. "Everything is going to be just fine."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"The First Snow" by Clint Mansell (The Fountain OST); "You Can't Sit Here" by Alan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST); "Learning to Forget" by Thomas Newman (Little Women OST)._


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 - This Is War**

Nate headed directly to his rooms after the disastrous events in the armory, ignoring the surprised glances thrown in his direction as he stormed through the Vigil's winding hallways. He'd never considered himself a hot-head but Alyx was quickly proving him wrong. _Maker_, what was it about her that made him completely lose his head? He doubted he'd ever have an answer to that, but at least he'd identified this new facet of his personality and was quickly learning to adapt.

After a long soak in his bath and a shave, he started to feel more like his normal, level-headed self. It had taken far longer than anticipated, but at least he was no longer in danger of tearing something…or some_one_ apart limb from limb.

He changed into a fresh tunic and leather leggings and had just begun to settle in for a long night of thinking (and drinking) when a knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. He didn't really expect to see or hear from Alyx for the rest of the evening. Needless to say, he was surprised when a servant handed him a note with her familiar, elegant handwriting scrawled across the front. His heart jumped in anticipation as he ripped open the heavy vellum only to plummet again once he realized he was merely being summoned to Velanna's Joining ceremony.

What did he expect? He hadn't actually _told_ her of his feelings. He'd stolen a kiss and fled without giving her an iota of his true intentions, like a fumbling youth who was too green to know any better. For all Nate knew she could think he was looking for a quick tumble in the hay to sate his manly urges (urges which, as he quickly discovered, were amplified by the taint running through his blood). Of course that wasn't the case, but how on Thedas was she to know that if he didn't _tell_ her so?

Nate groaned as the enormity of his actions finally began to sink in. He'd really bungled it with her and hadn't the foggiest as to how he could make things right between them again.

_Perhaps if I talk to her…explain…_yes. He would explain his actions, but he would not apologize for them. He would _never_ apologize for the way he felt about her, nor could he truly regret kissing her when nothing else in his life had ever felt so right. He had to try at least, though he doubted she would grant him a private audience after the mess he'd made that afternoon. He wasn't exactly sure what he would say to her if she did by some miracle agree to speak with him, but he couldn't leave things as they were.

Glancing out his chamber window Nate noted the position of the sun and realized it was time to head to the Commander's office. Usually the Joining would take place in the Great Hall but since Alyx's guests were allowed to freely roam the keep he suspected that she (or Varel) felt it best to hold the ceremony somewhere a little more private. It was just his luck that this first thing he saw upon leaving his chamber was Anders walking down the hallway towards him, whistling an annoyingly cheerful tune.

"Ho there, Howe!" the mage chirped as he slapped Nate on the arm good-naturedly.

Nate scowled as he rubbed at the offended appendage. He sent a silent prayer to the Maker to help him get through the rest of the night without killing Anders.

"You're awfully chipper this evening," Nate muttered as the two of them continued down the hallway together.

"And why shouldn't I be? Falcon's not only alive she's awake and recovering beautifully…but surely someone has told you as much?" Anders asked curiously.

"She sought me out, actually," Nate replied. _And you can take _that_ however you like, _he silently added, garnering a small amount of satisfaction from the frown that flashed across the mage's face.

"To be honest I'm not sure she should be out of bed already," Anders said, obviously wishing to move the conversation into safer waters. "I mean, she's been awake for mere hours and she wants to perform a Joining? What's the rush?"

"You know the Commander. She's relentless when it comes to warden business. No doubt she feels that she needs to make up for lost time. Velanna's Joining was supposed to take place days ago, and _we_ were supposed to have already been back on the road," Nate replied.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Anders groaned with a dramatic shudder. "I'll be glad when this darkspawn business is over."

"We're _wardens_, Anders. I doubt this 'darkspawn business' ever truly ends for the likes of us," Nate retorted dryly.

"Wonderful. At this rate every last one of my robes will permanently carry the stench of the filthy brutes. Just what do wardens do when there aren't darkspawn running amok anyway? I mean, are there are parties? Do we travel the world? Take over small kingdoms?"

"Stand vigilant I suppose."

"Hmmm. If that's the case I hope someone comes to dust off the cobwebs every now and again. Me, I intend to take up knitting. I'll send a scarf to Knight-Commander Greigor every Satinilia…provided I don't end up in some ogre's belly, chewed into tiny mage bits. But I'm an optimist."

"_Must_ you insist on this constant chattering?" Nate growled.

"Well aren't _we_ grumpy today? Someone piss in your porridge this morning Howe?"

_Oh, if only you knew, _he thought, tempted to tell Anders everything just to see what the mage's reaction would be. Instead he merely grunted in response.

"Do you think Velanna will survive the Joining?"

Nate sighed.

"No doubt we will find out soon enough."

"I think she will. She's far too annoying _not_ to survive."

"Easy for you to say when it isn't your life being put on the line," Nate muttered.

"Come on, man! You can't tell me all that conceited bigotry of hers doesn't get on your nerves at least a little," Anders replied.

Luckily he wasn't forced to reply, as they had arrived at their destination. _And not a moment too soon, _Nate thought with relief as he opened the heavy wooden door.

Varel, Alyx, Oghren and Velanna had already gathered in the spacious room that he knew had once been his father's office. It had changed quite a bit since the last time he'd been in it. Rendon had always kept it dark and foreboding, with piles of books and parchment cluttered over every available surface. Alyx had taken down the heavy damask curtains that once adorned the tall windows on the far side of the room, and even had them thrown open to let in the warm summer breeze. The room was spotless and smelled of beeswax, leather-bound books and honeysuckle. Even the tall piles of parchment gracing the surface of the familiar mahogany desk were in neat, orderly stacks.

Nate glanced at Alyx, who was obviously trying to avoid meeting either his or Anders' eyes from across the room. He should have expected as much, but it still grated on his already fine-stretched nerves…or it did until he noticed the puffiness around her eyes. He wanted to kick himself. She'd been crying and it was likely his fault. If there was one thing he couldn't take it was the sight of a woman's tears…_this_ particular woman's especially.

"Ah, good," Varel said, breaking Nate out of his quiet panic. "Now that we are all here we can get started. Commander?"

Alyx nodded and stepped forward, reciting the words that they all knew by heart. She took the goblet from Varel's hands and offered it to Velanna, who took it in turn and drunk its contents without hesitation. The elf's eyes immediately rolled back in her head as she dropped to the ground with a dull thud that made Nate wince in sympathy.

"Eck! Do we all look like that?" Anders whispered in his ear.

"Beats me. The only Joining I attended was my own," Nate whispered back. "Weren't there two others in your own?"

"Yes, well, Oghren never does anything properly, and I went directly after him. Never had a chance to see the results for myself," Anders whispered back, but fell silent when Alyx shot them a look of warning.

Varel knelt beside Velanna's still form and carefully checked for a pulse.

"She lives, Commander," he said after a moment.

"Move her to her rooms and alert me when she wakes," Alyx replied with a curt nod, signaling the end of the ceremony.

She walked past them both without a word but before she reached the door Anders and Nate both called out to her in unison, each unknowingly taking a step in her direction.

"Oh, no," she began, throwing up her hands defensively as she slowly began to walk backwards towards the open door. "The both of you just…keep your hands, and lips, and every other part of you the bloody hell away from me!"

And with that she fled the room without even a glance behind her.

Nate and Anders both stood frozen in place by her words. If he hadn't been so shocked Nate would've burst out laughing. She might've just basically told him to go to hell, but at least he wasn't the only one. At the very least it proved to him that the scene he had witnessed between Alyx and Anders earlier had not been one of her making but of his.

"Well _that_ was certainly unexpected," Anders said before shooting Nate a scathing look. "What did you do to her?" he hissed in accusation.

"Nothing you hadn't already done yourself," Nate replied coldly before turning on his heel to leave, but Anders was following close behind him.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he asked as he picked up his pace to stride next to him. "I thought I'd heard a door open, but then again I was a little too busy at the time to notice who it was. I should congratulate you, Howe. You're timing is impeccable."

Nate abruptly stopped in his tracks, an unfriendly smile crossing his lips as he dipped his head to look Anders directly in the eyes.

"Does is bother you, mage? Knowing that I've tasted her…" he began, purposefully trying to goad Anders into a reaction. "…that I've traced the contours of her lips with my own, plunging deep into the moist heat of her mouth, learning the feel of her tongue, dancing with mine?" When Anders' nostrils flared with anger, Nate's smile broadened. "I see that it does. Perhaps, then, you've come to understand at least a semblance of what I went through this morning."

He continued walking down the hallway, leaving Anders frozen in place. It didn't last long, however, as the mage soon caught up with him.

"Alright, I might've deserved that, and I concede that your reaction was a fair one. Are we even?" Anders said in his usual chipper voice.

_"Even?"_ Nate asked incredulously as he stopped walking once again. "Maybe if I punched you in the face we'd be even, but if it makes you feel better I'll let you think so."

Again Nate stalked off and again Anders followed.

"Cute. Is that supposed to make me feel bad for you?" Anders seethed beside him. "Poor Nathaniel, the stigmatized ex-noble with a daddy-sized chip on his shoulder, can't stand to see another man take what he wants. What's the matter Howe? Too proud to fight for her? Or maybe you're just hoping to _bore_ me to death before taking her for yourself?"

"Is everything a joke to you?" Nate growled in consternation. "Because if it is, I'm not laughing."

"I _will_ fight for her and I _will_ win her …and that is no joke."

"This isn't a _game_, Anders, and she isn't some prize to be won," Nate hissed as he turned on him, his face just inches away from the mage's. He changed tactics as swiftly as he shifted his footing. "Say that she _does_ choose you…what will you do when you tire of her—and you _will_ tire of her, of that I am certain. I know your type, with your colorful tales of the conquests left in your wake. She isn't a notch to be added to your bedpost, and I'll be damned if I have to stand by and watch it."

"You know nothing about my feelings for her—"

"Nor you of mine," Nate seethed in low, dangerous tones.

"Hey!" Oghren's voice barked from behind them, making both men whip their heads around to glare at the dwarf. "I like a good pissin' match as much as the next man, but it's nearly dinnertime and yer blockin' the way."

Anders and Nate stared blankly at Oghren for half a second before parting to let the dwarf through. Oghren humphed and shuffled passed them, grumbling something about "Sodding young bucks without a nug's sense," as he passed by. Both men stared after the dwarf for a long moment before they scowled at each other and both turned to walk in the same direction.

"Where are you going?" Nate growled as he noticed that Anders was still beside him.

"You heard Oghren, it's nearly suppertime…where are _you_ going?" Anders asked as he narrowed his eyes at Nathaniel. "Great. That's just fabulous," Anders said when Nate merely grunted in response. "But just so you know I'll be sitting as far away from you as the table can afford."

"Thank the Maker for small favors," Nate muttered to himself.

"Oh, gentleman?" a feminine voice called from the study as they walked by on their way to the dining hall. Both men stopped and turned to see Wynne standing the open doorway. "If you would?" the elderly mage asked, waving them into the room.

Anders and Nate looked at each other in question and then shrugged and followed Wynne into the study. Leliana stood in the middle of the room, her arms crossed in front of her, a knowing smile teasing up the corner of her mouth. Wynne joined her, mimicking her pose as the two men stepped into the room. Sizing up the women before him a sudden panic seized Nate's chest.

"Where are the others?" Anders asked, anxiety pitching his voice to a higher octave than normal. Nate shot him a sidelong glance. Had he not been experiencing the same sort of queasy sensation the mage seemed to be, he might've found his reaction to be comical.

"They will be along soon enough. Leliana and I wished to speak with you both in private before the rest of the party convened for the evening meal," Wynne replied.

"Maker, she's told you," Anders gasped as he nervously ran a hand through his hair.

"That she did," Wynne confirmed. "But surely that doesn't surprise you?"

"I—that is to say…she didn't tell you who…"

"No, and even if she did, neither Leliana nor myself are the sort to divulge another's confidences," Wynne continued, gesturing at the settee beside her. "Please, have a seat gentleman. There is much we need to discuss."

"Are we being punished? Because I didn't think professing affection to a beautiful woman was a punishable offense," Anders continued nervously.

"Is that what you call it?" Leliana murmured, one fine eyebrow arching in amusement. "And here I thought perhaps you two were playing a complex game of hide-and-go seek…Orlesian rules of course."

"Oooh, I played that once. Third time out of the tower I think? _Fascinating_ rules you Orlesians have," Anders drawled, eyebrows wagging lasciviously at Leliana as he flashed her a cheeky smile that made the former bard giggle.

"We asked you here for a _reason_, young man, and you are _not_ helping Leliana," Wynne said in a clipped, business-like tone as she shot Leliana a reproving look. "Now _sit_…all of you!"

Anders and Nate both automatically sat at the tone of the elderly mage's voice. Wynne nodded in satisfaction before sitting herself, folding weathered hands demurely in her lap with a calm that belied the snap of impatience in her eyes.

"Now," Wynne began calmly, "The reason Leliana and I have asked you here is because we felt the two of you could use some direction before you caused any more damage than you already have."

"A little female perspective if you will," Leliana added, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"What on Thedas are you talking about?" Anders snapped, obviously annoyed. "You act as if the two of us vying for Faclon's affection will cause some far-sweeping cataclysmic disaster, complete with traditional weeping and gnashing of teeth."

"Perhaps nothing as dramatic as that, Anders, but if you do not stop to think about the consequences of your actions this will most certainly end in tragedy. Your words tell me more than anything that you haven't…not seriously," Wynne replied calmly. "Now, you two have put Alyxandria in a very difficult position, both on a personal level and as your superior."

"Try to think of it as she would," Leliana added. "As your Commander she could not seriously consider a relationship with either of you without being concerned about the fallout. At the least, rumors of favoritism and suffering performance, at the worst…she loses one or the both of you to desertion or worse."

"I wouldn't—"

"No offense, Anders, but you do not have the best track record for sticking around in a bad situation, and _you_ Nathaniel once tried to kill her without double-checking your facts," Leliana snapped before her expression softened. "Yet despite all of that, it is obvious that our Falcon has come to care a great deal about the both of you, and _she_ is as loyal as they come. She would never intentionally wish to hurt either of you, and in such a situation one of you undoubtedly will be."

"There's more," Wynne continued seriously. "Something that is merely speculation on my part, but recent events have cemented the idea even further within my thoughts. Alistair's death nearly destroyed her. What do you suppose would happen should she come to care as deeply for one of you, only to lose you in battle?"

"Wynne, you…don't think…you _can't_ think," Anders stuttered in shock.

"I know how she seems to you; strong and resilient, with the ability to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, but the truth of the matter is that beneath it all, she's just a woman…a woman who is in a particularly vulnerable state."

"Wynne is right," Leliana said. "Past and present are warring for her heart, and at the moment there's no telling which will win."

"Press her and she will balk. If she does, she may never move beyond the events of Fort Drakon, and she _must_ if there is to be any hope for either of you…or her," Wynne said.

"Begging your pardon, madam, but if I might inquire as to why the Arl of Redcliffe hasn't been included in this little chat?" Nate asked curiously.

"Ah, I had wondered if either of you had noticed his marked attentions. The Arl is neither a warden nor, do I think, a viable competitor for Alyxandria's heart. Teagan has been infatuated with her for years, even before Alistair held any claim over her…but if she hasn't accepted him by now I doubt she ever will," Wynne replied. "It is rather a shame, for he is a good man."

"Who also happens to be in a position to alleviate a great deal of Falcon's fears concerning her daughter," Leliana added. "He's willing to name Jocelyn as his heir, which would take her out of the running for the crown. Falcon wouldn't have to keep her existence a secret any longer."

"So then why doesn't she marry the man?" Anders asked curiously. "Not that I would want her to, but even _I_ can see that it makes sense."

"Who says she isn't considering it?" Leliana asked, shooting Wynne a loaded look. "I, for one, am not taking him out of the running."

"Wonderful. That just makes me feel all the better about all of this," Anders mumbled, a pout crossing over his features as he crossed his arms dejectedly.

Wynne chuckled as she leaned over to place a comforting hand on Anders' shoulder.

"Oh, my dear. Do not think I care nothing for your feelings…or yours for that matter, Nathaniel. We simply want what's best for all concerned. That there is a chance for happiness makes me think that the road ahead…though fraught with challenges only the Maker can know…will be well worth the journey. Give Alyxandria some time and space; let her come to her own conclusions. When she is ready, she'll come to you," Wynne concluded.

Anders and Nate looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them as Wynne's words began to take root…though who knew how long it would last once they were back out on the road. There was one thing, though, that Nate _did_ know for certain…once the truce was broken (and there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that it would be at some point); things were bound to get very, _very _messy.

Wynne left the very next day with a contingent of Fergus's men to see that she make it to Amaranthine unscathed. Nate was surprised to discover that he would miss the elderly mage. Her soothing presence had become something of a neutralizer for him amidst the emotional maelstrom of these past few days.

Her warning turned out to be unnecessary as Alyx was clearly avoiding both himself and Anders whenever possible. He could hardly blame her for that, not after the mess they'd made of things. Then again he probably wouldn't have seen much of her even had they been on good terms. If she wasn't locked in her office with the Seneschal pouring over the tedious day-to-day business of the Arling, she was busy entertaining her guests. He couldn't blame her for that either. In just a couple of days the Highever party would be leaving with her daughter, and soon after that the rest of them would be heading to the Knotwood Hills to investigate the darkspawn presence there.

Three days.

That was how long it had been since the last time he'd seen more than fleeting glimpses of her. Beyond his flight to Amaranthine it was the longest he'd gone without her constant presence since the night of his Joining. _Maker_ he missed her, and it wasn't just because of the physical affect she had on him. He missed the cadence of her voice and the way she played with the ends of her hair when it began to unravel at the end of the day. He missed the way her nose would scrunch up when she was annoyed and those rare, remarkable moments when she would allow herself to laugh…_really _laugh. There wasn't anything in Thedas like the beautiful sound of her laughter. But most of all he missed their conversations. He'd never been a man of many words, but with her he could talk for hours and never grow bored or weary. If he spent the rest of his days just talking with her, he could die a happy man.

Nate stood out on one of the balconies overlooking the Vigil's busy courtyard, barely registering the activity below him over the din of his own troubled thoughts. His hands reflexively tightened over the crumbling stone banister as he chuckled dryly to himself. It was almost ironic, that life should be going on as normal around him while his own was in such turmoil.

For what felt like the hundredth time he ran through the events of the past few days, and once again found himself without answers. If only he could see her, know that she was well…then perhaps this interminable waiting wouldn't be so intolerable.

All of sudden, as if someone had heard his silent plea, there she was. His heart fluttered against his ribcage as he watched her stroll across the courtyard, occasionally stopping to look at a merchant's wares or to speak with someone in passing.

She was wearing a vibrant, rusted colored gown with a simple leather belt cinched low around her waist. Her hair had been plated into a single thick rope down the length of her back that swung like a pendulum with each step she took. He unknowingly let his guard down as he watched her, allowing the emotions to play over his features as he drank in every detail of her to commit to memory. He didn't know why she'd taken to wearing dresses around the keep, but he could only think that it was her devious plan to torture him. She looked soft and feminine and despite recent events, fresh and relaxed as she mingled with the common folk.

Suddenly she looked up from across the leather merchant's cart and his entire body stiffened as her gaze roamed to his general vicinity. He thought at first that it was a figment of his imagination, that surely she couldn't see him from this height…especially as her attention quickly turned back to the man showing her his wares, but moments later she looked up again and this time her eyes connected with his own. He felt like a drowning man as he stared into their piercing blue depths, unable and unwilling to look away. He desperately wished he knew what she was thinking, if she felt the same longing that he was or if she was merely contemplating the best way to turn him away. There was no telling how long he would have stood there, transfixed, had Teagan Guerrin not approached her in that moment.

He watched Alyx greet the Arl with a pleasant smile as he engaged her in conversation, gallantly proffering her his arm as they strolled across the courtyard together. Nate's heart twisted painfully as she glanced back at him once more over her shoulder before turning her full attention back to the man at her side. He couldn't deny that they made a striking pair, with their similar coloring and obvious breeding. He wasn't entirely convinced that Alyx would turn him down were he to propose, considering the advantages the match would afford her daughter and the easy affection between the two. The pair had found a stone bench to sit upon, and Teagan had taken her hands, his expression serious as he bent his head close to hers as he spoke. Nate's brow furrowed in consternation, wishing he could read lips as easily as Oghren did. _What the devil is he saying to her? _His mind growled.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" a deep voice asked from behind him, breaking his concentration.

Nate turned to see Fergus Cousland leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest as his dark eyes drilled into his own.

"Yes," Nate replied simply. It was something he discovered on the grueling ride to Amaranthine, when he thought he might lose her forever. It was funny that he could admit it so easily to Cousland when he'd only just begun to understand it himself.

Fergus unfolded his arms and moved to stand next to Nate, taking on a similar pose as he eyed his sister below in the courtyard.

"You know, there was a time when such tidings would have filled me with joy."

"And now?" Nate asked curiously as he gaze flitted to his former friend.

"Now…" Fergus began, an ironic smile twisting his lips. "I don't suppose there's any way to warn you off? No, don't answer that. I can see that there's not."

"You do realize that ultimately, whatever her decision, the choice is hers and hers alone?" Nate asked.

"Yes, of course I do. We _are_ talking about my sister after all. If she wished to lasso the moon, I'd dare anyone to try and talk her out of it. She's just like our mother in that respect," Fergus replied, a sudden sadness sweeping over his features before his expression hardened. "I cannot pretend that nothing has changed between us, Nathaniel. I've lost too much just to forget it all and start anew. I know you had nothing to do with my family's untimely end, yet the name of Howe still tastes like poison upon my lips. Your innocence cannot expunge the memories, and it cannot bring my wife and son back from the dead, but…I am man enough to admit when I am wrong."

Nate cocked an eyebrow at Fergus, waiting for the man to continue. _This should be good, _he thought as he crossed his arms.

"I know of the part you played in Alyx's recovery. Had it not been for your quick thinking, I might have lost her too, and for that I cannot express my gratitude. All I ask is that you have a care with my sister's feelings. She is teetering on the precipice. Should she be pushed in the wrong direction…"

"I'll not force the issue, Fergus. You'd know that if you bothered to recall our youth. I haven't changed since then, not really." _Not where it counts, _Nate added silently as his gaze returned to the woman below them, his voice softening as he studied her face. "I am a selfish man, Cousland. I want _all_ of her, or nothing at all. I think it obvious that her heart still belongs to another. Should the day come when she's ready to move on then I'll make my intentions known, and if she chooses to be with another, I won't push her to change her mind. I meant what I said. It is her decision alone. Besides," He continued as he finally lifted his gaze to meet Fergus's. "I don't think you have much to worry about."

Fergus cocked his head, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a sad smile.

"I cannot claim to know what lay's within my sister's heart, but I _do_ know that she thinks quite highly of you or she would never have come to your defense. And though Teagan is likely down there pouring his heart out at her dainty feet, it is _you_ that she is looking at."

Nate's eyebrows shot up in surprise as his head snapped around to look at the couple below them. Sure enough Alyx was staring up at them, a look of consternation plastered across her face.

"No doubt she's trying to figure out what the two of us are talking about," Nate said.

It was Fergus's turn to look surprised, but then he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"Maker, you're probably right! You certainly know her, I'll give you that," he said with a grin before his expression turned serious once again. "I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with the idea of you courting my sister, but I'll not stand in your way either."

Nate nodded at him, knowing that this was as close to a blessing as he would ever receive from the man. Fergus turned to leave but stopped just inside the door, bracing one hand on the doorframe as he turned partly back to face him again.

"Oh, and Howe?" he called as he shot Nathaniel an icy glare. "If you hurt her in any way, I'll have your heart on a platter."

"If I hurt her, I'll show up on your doorstep and hand you the knife and platter myself."

* * *

***Muse Tunes:** _Muse Tunes for this chapter are: "The Burning Heart" by Antony Hopkins, the Lyndhurst Orchestra and Gavin Greenway ("Hannibal" OST); "Catatonic" by Hans Zimmer (Sherlock Holme's OST); "Cold Lamb Sandwich" by Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black OST); and "A New Life" by Jerry Goldsmith (First Knight OST). _


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27 – Amongst Friends**

Alyx stood out on the moonlit balcony overlooking the silver-tipped waves of Lake Calenhad…only this time she knew she was dreaming. It was the same damnable balcony and the same somber view that she'd witnessed a thousand times over, yet there was something…off this time. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Even as she thought this she could feel the emotions of that long ago night bubble up inside of her. Her heart filled with the overwhelming joy and wonder at having just exchanged vows with her husband (her _husband…_Maker! She would never tire of calling him that), and the subtle thrill of knowing that beyond the Reverend Mother, they were the only two in all of Thedas aware of it. Then there was the ever-present underlying sense of foreboding that came with the threat of the archdemon looming just over the horizon. She shivered in the useless shift that was little more than gossamer fluff against her chilled skin. How Lady Isolde could _ever_ believe such a garment was suitable bed-wear was beyond her.

Soon enough she sensed another behind her; one that was large, warm and utterly masculine. She could feel the familiar vibration under her skin that was always present when another warden was close by and shivered again, this time in anticipation. Alyx closed her eyes and sighed in contentment as strong arms wrapped around her waist. Warm lips caressed the sensitive skin at the base of her neck, sending tendrils of heat skittering down her spine.

"Come to bed, love," he whispered in a low, seductive tone.

Shock coursed through her body as she realized that though she knew that voice, it was not the one she'd come to expect. She slowly turned in his arms to look up into a face that was both familiar and dear, but definitely _not_ her husband's.

She felt like a drowning woman as he ran his knuckles lightly over her cheek, his eyes swiftly darkening with a need that echoed deep within her. She heard herself asking him to make love to her even as a voice in her head pleaded for her to stop. _This is wrong! _The voice chanted in her head, but she couldn't keep herself from leaning into his touch. It was as if her body was simply going through the motions it had long become accustomed to in this place…or some unknown force was controlling her every movement. Whichever it was she had no way to stop what she knew would come next. She was but a puppet and the man before her, the puppeteer.

He crushed her to his chest, his lips and tongue tangling with hers in a timeless dance. She melted fully against him, her body caring nothing for the protests of her mind. A deep well of desire filled her as they quickly undressed each other and moved inside to the bed, her lover's hands caressing every inch of her body as if he knew it as well as his own. Soon their mingled breaths were coming in short, haggard gasps as they teased each other into a frenzy that would not be sated until they were one.

"How could you?" a shaky voice asked from across the room in pain-filled accusation.

She turned her head in response, breaking her lover's ardent kiss to search for the source of the voice. Alistair stood in the shadowed doorway of the bedroom, wearing the same blood-soaked armor that he'd worn at Fort Drakon. His face was streaked with sweat, dirt and blood, just as it had been the last time she'd seen him alive. Tears were flowing freely from his dark eyes as he stared at her with naked hurt.

"You promised me you'd love me forever," he said between silent sobs. "I sacrificed my life for you and this is how you repay me? _How could you?"_

Her heart broke at his words and yet she couldn't stop the moan of pleasure that left her lips as her lover suddenly filled her with one swift thrust. Her attention fully recaptured, she greedily claimed his lips with her own, her body arching up to meet his. He began to move inside of her, slowly at first but soon picking up pace, creating a sweet friction that grew in intensity with every stroke. He moaned her name before leaning closer to whisper words of love into her hair as their hips moved in perfect harmony.

"He'll never love you like I did," Alistair said, his voice closer this time and coming from her other side. She looked to her right and saw that he was kneeling just by the bedside, his dark eyes drilling into her own. He wasn't crying any longer. Instead he wore a malicious smile that was significantly more disturbing than the weeping. "He'll use you up and leave you empty and alone. You'll be nothing but a shell…a walking, talking husk of your former self…dying as you'll live…useless and forsaken," he said in a dead, cold voice.

"_No," _she whispered as she reached her hand out to him, but he moved back into the shadows, his hard gaze never leaving her face.

Her lover reclaimed her lips and her attention as his pace grew frenetic, all patience lost as the promise of release drew near. She cried his name as she finally peaked, her body convulsing in pleasure as the voice in her head wept in despair; all the while Alistair's pain-filled voice whispered "You promised," from across the room over and over again. _"You promised." _

Alyx startled awake, stifling the cry that jumped to her lips as she returned to full consciousness. She gulped deep breaths of air as she desperately tried to calm her racing heart. She swiped an arm across her sweaty brow before detangling her legs from the sheets, eventually throwing them off all together with a frustrated humph. Jumping out of the bed, she crossed the room to the sideboard where she always kept a pitcher of water. With a shaky hand she poured herself a glass, quickly draining its contents before pouring another. When she was finally satisfied she slumped into the closest chair, pulling her legs up and clamping her arms tightly around them as she curled her body into a tight ball.

_Well that was different, _she thought as her body convulsed with the memory of her dream. She didn't need anyone to tell her what it meant. She was only too aware of the reasons behind it. _Leave it to me to play out all of my insecurities in one dream, _she added to herself wryly.

She should have expected as much really. Ever since the moment she discovered her true feelings for a certain fellow warden_, _Alyx had felt a constant stream of guilt pulsing steadily within her heart. It was silly, she knew. Alistair was dead, and she had every right to move on, but that didn't stop her from feeling as if she were somehow betraying her late husband. Sighing heavily she leaned her head back against the cool stone wall. Guilt, it seemed, had become her constant companion over the years.

Yet guilt, she knew, wasn't the true crux of the problem. What disturbed her more than anything was her body's telltale reaction to her subconscious meanderings. Sure, she hadn't been with a man in over two years. It would only be natural for her body to crave the intimacy she'd long denied it, and after such a dream…well, a little sexual frustration was understandable. No, it wasn't the actual reaction itself but the intensity of her need that both stunned and shamed her.

It was all _his_ fault.

Had he not kissed her she wouldn't be experiencing or thinking about any of this, and he would certainly not be making such lurid cameos in her dreams. Had he not kissed her, she wouldn't be haunted by the memory of his lips moving over hers, or the way his eyes had darkened with desire. She knew what he tasted like now and she wanted more…_ever_ so much more than she should or could ask from him. She couldn't afford the distraction. None of them could for that matter.

Sighing, Alyx blew a strand of hair from out of her face as she balanced her chin on her knees. After her embarrassing run-in with Anders and Nate at Velanna's joining she'd come to the conclusion that it would be best for her to act as if nothing had happened between them…a concept easier said than done. Oh, she could avoid them both for the time being, but in just a couple of days they would be back on the road and she would have no choice but to be in their company. The very idea scared the hell out of her.

How was she to act naturally when she couldn't so much as look at _him_ without longing for his kiss? Surely he would see it written across her face? The others were bound to notice and then everything would unravel. They would all end up as fodder to the darkspawn and it would all be because she suddenly couldn't control her feelings. She'd spent the past couple of years learning how to bury her emotions, yet all it took was one harmless little show of affection to bust the flood gates wide open. She cursed herself for being such a weak fool. Wasn't this exactly what got her in trouble the first time around?

It had all happened so quickly with Alistair, or so it had felt at the time (though admittedly she'd been drifting in and out of reality from the moment she and Duncan had fled Highever). She'd been drowning in sorrow after the massacre of her family and desperately trying to put on a brave face for Duncan and her fellow recruits. Then all of a sudden here was this big, beautiful man who was perhaps one of the most kindhearted, forgiving souls she'd ever met, and he was looking at her as if she were some Thedas-bound goddess. A few stuttered words of appreciation and one thoughtful token of his affection and she was all over him like a starving mabari with a bone. She'd been determined to glean at least _some_ happiness from the appalling situation they'd found themselves in, consequences be damned, but then she had to go and fall in love with the man. And _then_...no. It had been a hard lesson to learn, but she knew now that she couldn't put her own happiness before her duty; especially now that she was leading in an official capacity. She refused to let that happen again.

Alyx had the sudden need for movement. She hastily donned her armor and was out in the training yard just as the sun began to rise over the horizon. She was diligently whacking away at a practice dummy when she heard a familiar chuckle. She looked up to see Zevran leaning comfortably against the wall, his lips twisted up into a typical saucy grin.

"_Tsk. . _What'd that poor dummy ever do to you?" he drawled.

"Sod off," she muttered before going back to attacking the hapless dummy.

"Ah, but it is you who requested my presence dear Warden…or have you changed your mind?" he asked as he crossed to stand next to her.

She _had_ requested his presence, just as she had every morning since she'd awaken from her poison-induced coma. She'd simply forgotten…but then again she _did_ have quite a bit on her mind at the moment.

"Right," she snapped as she dropped her stance and turned to face him. "You ready?"

"For you? I am always ready," he replied as he drew his blades.

Alyx wanted to be sure she was back to her full capabilities before they left for the Knotwood Hills, so she recruited Zevran to train with her in the early hours before most of the others would be awake. She'd chosen him for two reasons: because the former assassin knew better than anyone how to be discrete, and because he was by far the best choice as a sparring partner. He favored dual blades the same as she, and was the only one of her companions she'd taught any of her skills to. She never had to hold back with Zevran, which was a good thing considering her mood of late.

They slowly circled each other, studying each other for across the yard. She almost always let her sparring partner make the first move, but Zevran was wearing a knowing smile that only served to heighten her temper. She struck with a sharp, rapid stroke that he easily blocked, followed by several consecutive jabs that bounced off his blades with a loud clang.

"My, aren't we in a rare mood this morning?" Zevran drawled as his grin grew wider.

Alyx bared her teeth at him as she struck again and again and grew further annoyed by her friend's lack of response beyond simply blocking her attacks.

"Shall I guess what has put you in such poor humor, hmm?" Zevran continued as they sparred. "Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that our dear Arl Teagan has been pouting ever since his interview with you yesterday…no? Then it must be one of your other delectable suitors. I've heard they've been quite…lippy of late."

Alyx sucked in a breath.

"How do you know about that?" she seethed.

"Leliana told me," he replied, flashing her yet another wicked grin.

"Of course," Alyx snorted before her face drained of all its color. "You don't think she's told Fergus do you?"

"Our dear bard might be as loose tongued as an Antivan whore, but even she would know better than to tell your overprotective brother that your men have been pawing at you without your explicit permission, but you digress," he said as he finally made his first offensive move.

Alyx easily parried his physical attacks, but she could tell that he was holding back on her…yet another annoyance to add to her steadily growing list.

"My _mood_ is none of your business Zev," she growled as she swiped at him again.

"I was simply curious my dear Falcon, I meant no offense," he began. "But it has occurred to me that you and I are two sides of the same coin."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped.

"We bear the same wounds, no? Yet have taken quite a different approach to living with the pain. I take my pleasure wherever I might find it, never to offer my heart in exchange, whereas _you _have been given a second chance at love and deny your heart's desire."

"What would you know of my feelings!" she spat furiously, her breath coming in short gasps with the exertion of their sparring.

"You might be able to fool the others but you forget that I've built a career on knowing how to read people," Zevran replied in a soft voice. "I've seen the way you look at him when you think no one is watching. Your expression, your voice, your entire being softens at the mere mention of his name, yet when he's in the same room…you come alive. It reminds me of how you were with—"

"That's quite enough," Alyx hissed in a low, dangerous tone.

"Oh, but it's not nearly enough. You want him, Falcon, and it frightens you."

Alyx let out a cry of frustration as she raised her blades and brought them swiftly down over his head. Again her strike was blocked, the blow reverberating up her arms. She could see Zevran's eyes gleaming with challenge through their crossed blades.

"What scares you the most?" he asked in a cool, taunting voice. "That if you give in to your desire you could lose him, or is it that instead you might find yourself?"

"I said _enough!"_ she bellowed as she shoved back against him with all her strength.

Zevran tumbled to the ground with a look of surprise as Alyx stood over him and raised her blades high above her head. With a grunt she plunged both blades into the ground on either side of his torso before pushing herself to her full height. She swiped a hand over her mouth before she turned to walk away.

"Falcon, if you want—"

"_I-want-I-want_ since when have I ever been able to do what I want?" she growled as she turned back to glare at Zevran. "And why the hell does everyone suddenly seem to _care_ what I want? No one asked me if I _wanted_ to lead an army against the blight, or if I _wanted_ to fall in love, only to see him die just days after our wedding. No one asked me if I _wanted_ to hide my child away like some dirty little secret, or to be parted from her for Maker knows how long so that I could save Fereldan from the darkspawn…_again_. You all act as if I have a choice in the matter. From the moment I took my Joining I _had_ no choice. I didn't even want to be a warden in the first place, but it was either that or die with the rest of my family." Alyx spat as she frantically began to pace. She chuckled dryly as she looked back at Zevran. "You know what one of the last things my father said to me?'A Cousland always does their duty first.' I've lived by those words for the whole of my life and now that everyone seems to think I should do what _I _want, I can't! _I bloody can't,_" she yelled, her face red with rage. "So all of you can just take your bloody advice and shove it up your collective arses!"

Zevran smiled and slowly clapped his hands together in applause as he got to his feet.

"Now there's our fiery Falcon," he said as he closed the distance between them. Alyx blanched as his words, her face draining of color as she grasped their meaning.

"You did that on purpose," she said accusingly.

"Guilty as charged," he replied nonchalantly.

"Why?" she asked, baffled.

"You keep too much to yourself my friend. It was only a matter of time before you exploded. Better to do so amongst friends instead of the darkspawn, no? And you _do_ feel better, don't you?"

"I…yes actually," she said in surprise. "But _really_ Zev, picking a fight with me? Surely there was a better way."

"It was either that or to seduce you, which to my mind would have been a far more pleasurable way of releasing your tension, but something tells me that such an offer would not go over very well…at least not coming from me," he said as he flashed her a wicked grin.

"You would be right," she murmured, trying desperately to hide the blush that crept into her cheeks. Zevran laughed.

"You should blush more often, my dear. It becomes you," he said, which caused her to blush even further.

"You are a cad Zevran Arainai! A gentleman should never poke fun at a woman's feelings," Alyx scolded.

"Ah, but _I_ am no gentleman," he replied with a lascivious smile.

"Of that there is no doubt," she said with a soft chuckle before her expression turned serious again. "Tell me something, Zev…what you said before…about the way I am around him…is it really that obvious?"

"No. Not to anyone who doesn't know you as well as I…and before you ask your secret is safe with me. But do yourself a favor, my friend. Don't wait too long to tell him how you feel. You might wake up one day to find another has stolen his heart."

He gave her such a look after this statement that Alyx's heart dropped down into her toes.

"Oh Zev," she whispered, her eyes going wide. "You don't mean that…"

"How do you know I wasn't speaking of him? I kid, I kid! You were always far too perceptive for your own good, and far too soft-hearted. Do not worry about me. I've known for some time now that you and I were not meant to be…unlike you and—"

"Uh-uh! Stop right there."

"Fine, have it your way, but you cannot run from the truth forever. What I meant to say…before you so rudely interrupted…was this: whatever I may or may not have felt for you does not matter in the grand scheme of things. What _is_ important is that you are my dearest, cherished friend, and I will always be there for you," Zevran replied seriously before his lips twisted up into a typical wicked grin. "But just so you know, the offer to have wild, animalistic sex is still on the table…should you ever change your mind."

Alyx rolled her eyes but she smiled and patted him on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"I'll keep that in mind," she murmured as they turned to walk back into the Keep. "And Zev? It means the world to me that you want to help me sort through all of this, and for that I give you my thanks, but do me a favor…never do it again."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_Muse Tunes: "Sookie Dreams" by Nathan Barr (True Blood: Season 2 OST); "From a Shell" by Lisa Germano; "Car Chase" by James Horner (A Beautiful Mind OST); "Rowena" by Michael Kamen (Mr. Holland's Opus OST). _


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28 – 'Till We Meet Again**

The next day dawned gray and overcast, reflecting Alyx's gloomy mood to perfection. For the day of her family's departure had finally arrived.

She knew that it was necessary. Fergus and Teagan could hardly afford to stay away from their estates forever, and she could no longer put off her own pressing duties. Indeed, reports of darkspawn activity had recently increased, serving as a daily reminder of the time they'd lost between her recovery and her guest's extended stay. Yet she couldn't bring herself to regret their visit. Seeing her daughter, being able to spend time with those who were nearest and dearest to her gave her a sense of relief she hadn't realized she needed and with all that had happened, their visit couldn't have been more fortuitous. Maker only knew where she would be if the same events played out without their presence.

It was with a heavy heart that she walked down the hall to the guest quarters for the last time to escort her family to the courtyard below. Alyx was surprised to see that her brother's door was thrown open, but then a couple of burly men with heavy trunks walked out of the room, quickly excusing themselves as they veered out of her path. She smiled and nodded in their direction before slipping inside the open doorway and making her way through the sitting room to the bed chamber. She stopped and leaned against the doorframe as she watched Fergus bounce her sobbing daughter in his arms. She couldn't help but smile as his familiar cultured tones floated across the room.

"Now Joce, you can't take Ser-Pounce-a-Lot with you. He's Warden Anders' kitten. He'll be sad if you take him away, and if he's sad then your mother will be cross. Do you want Anders to be sad?" Fergus asked the little girl. Jocelyn sniffed as shook her head, her golden locks bouncing with the small movement. "And we certainly don't want your mother cross with us, do we?"

Jocelyn's eyes widened as she shook her head more vehemently after this last statement. Alyx had to stifle a laugh at her daughter's reaction to his words though her heart ached at the sight of the two of them together. It would be a long time before she would see either of them again.

"That's a good look for you brother," she called across the room. Fergus's head shot up at her words, a warm smile wreathing his lips as she crossed to join them. "Perhaps you should consider having more of your own."

"All in good time, pup, all in good time," he replied teasingly as Jocelyn squealed and reached for her mother, her chubby little hands flexing open and closed with excitement.

"Come here you little monster," she said as she took Jocelyn out of Fergus's arms, hugging her close as she looked back up at her brother. "Where's Leli?"

"She's already gone down with the others," he replied distractedly. Fergus had frozen in place as he stared down at her, a deep sadness momentarily flickering in his dark eyes.

"Fergus, what is it?" Alyx asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing really," Fergus replied as he shook himself. "Just…remembering. There was a time…you were holding Oren in just that fashion when he was no older than Jocelyn. I remember thinking how natural you looked with him in your arms. It must have been the first time I realized you were no longer my kid sister but a woman in your own right, and that soon enough it would be your own children you would be holding. I have to admit the very idea of it scared me senseless." Fergus smiled sadly at her as he reached out to brush a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. "Funny isn't it? How we've come full circle since then."

"You miss him," Alyx replied carefully. She knew that she had to tread lightly when it came to this particular topic, but she couldn't help herself when Fergus had _that_ look in his eye.

"Terribly. I think I shall always miss him. Of course any children that Leliana and I have will be just as loved, but they will never replace my Oren."

"I know that," Alyx replied softly as she squeezed her brother's arm, hoping the small gesture would show him she understood.

He nodded in gratitude as he gestured for her to precede him out the chamber door. Alyx rubbed her cheek against her daughter's golden curls as they walked in silence down the long, winding corridor. She desperately wanted to ask him a question that had been burning at the back of her mind these past few days, but she couldn't muster the words despite her curiosity.

"What's on your mind, pup?" Fergus asked.

"Why do you think I have something on my mind?" she squeaked defensively.

"Because I know you and I can almost hear the wheels turning in that stubborn head of yours," he replied, gentle amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Alyx blushed.

"I…I was just wondering…after everything that's happened…how did you reconcile falling in love with another woman?"

"Ah. I wondered if you'd ever get around to asking me this," he said as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I knew from the first that I would be expected to remarry, to carry on the Cousland line, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I would find love again. I'd been resigned to the idea of a luke-warm relationship, so typical to those of our station, but then I met Leli and everything changed."

"But surely it wasn't as simple as that."

"And why shouldn't it be? If Oriana loved me half as much as she claimed then she would understand. She wouldn't want me to let such a gift go to waste, and it _is_ a gift, pup, of that I am sure. So many go through life without finding love at all. To be able to experience it twice is a blessing from the Maker himself," Fergus replied as he studied her expression. He sighed when she simply pursed her lips. "Perhaps it wasn't as easy as all that. I still think of Oriana often, especially on special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries. How could I not when I loved her so? But that doesn't mean I love Leliana any less. They are two vastly different women who have touched my life in very different ways, and it is my dearest hope that you will find the same measure of happiness as I have."

"So you're not too put out that I refused Teagan?" she asked cautiously.

"Not nearly as put out as he is," he replied with a chuckle. "But I think I'm beginning to understand why you did."

"Ugh, not you too!" Alyx groaned in exasperation.

Fergus cocked one eyebrow in amusement.

"Ah, so I am not the first, though that is hardly surprising. You will be glad to know that your friends are being impressively tight-lipped on the subject, but I am not nearly as blind or as foolish as they believe me to be. You've been profoundly distracted of late, so much so that I can only conclude that a man is involved…" he began, holding up his hand when Alyx opened her mouth to interrupt. "I'm not going to ask for details. Maker knows I probably wouldn't want them anyway. Just know that I will always support you, regardless what my personal feelings may be."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Alyx asked, narrowing her eyes at her brother.

"Unless I am missing something your suitors are down to a mage and a Howe. As a Teryn and a Cousland I could hardly endorse either choice, but as a brother…I just want you to be happy, you know that right?"

Alyx flashed him a wide smile.

"Thank you," she said as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

By the end of their chat they'd made it to the courtyard. Alyx could see the rest of the Highever party gathered around Fergus's traveling carriage.

"Now," Fergus said once he cleared his throat. "Let me take Jocelyn so you can say a proper goodbye to the others. No doubt you'll want to save her for last."

Alyx nodded and handed her daughter over to him. She took a deep preparatory breath before she headed towards the small group waiting for her. Anders, Oghren and Nathaniel were also there saying their goodbyes, but as soon as they saw her they moved aside to give her a few last moments alone with her guests. She approached Arl Teagan first, knowing that this particular farewell was bound to be the most awkward.

"Goodbye Teagan. It was a pleasure to see you again," she said as she extended her hand to him. He took it graciously, brushing a swift kiss across her knuckles, but instead of dropping it as she expected he placed his other hand on top of her own and drew her in closer. She knew a moment of panic when the look in his eyes grew intense.

"Will you not reconsider, my dear?" he murmured in a low, husky voice.

She shook her head, a sad smile crossing her lips.

"Were things different…were I still simply Alyxandria Cousland, I think I would have been very happy as your wife, but now…"

Teagan nodded and dropped her hand as he took a step back, a look of profound sadness in his eyes.

"Goodbye, Alyx," he replied softly. "He's a lucky man…whoever he is," he added before turning to climb into the carriage.

Alyx couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. She truly liked Teagan, but she could never love him the way he wanted her to. What's more, she didn't believe he was really in love with her either. That he was disappointed was quite obvious, but as beautifully worded as his proposal had been, it was a far cry from the sweeping declaration one expected from a man madly in love. She couldn't help but compare it to Alistair's simple, "I love you. Marry me, now…tonight." Lackluster though it may have been, she'd known without a doubt that he meant every word.

She inwardly sighed, hoping against hope that Teagan would meet the right woman, someone who would love him as he deserved. Then perhaps he would forgive her.

"It is rather pointless to say goodbye when we will be seeing each other again soon, no?" Zevran said from beside her, breaking into her thoughts.

"Then you still plan on returning?" she asked him, an eyebrow arched in question.

"Of course…unless you changed your mind?" he replied.

"No. You are more than welcome to return to the Vigil, but do you really want to fight darkspawn again?"

"It is either that or return to Antiva, but as I've said before, things are never boring around you, my friend. Of course things are never boring when the Crows are out for your blood, but…" he continued with a shrug, "I find your style of never-boring to be a little more palatable. Here, at least, I am welcome."

"For as long as you wish, Zev," she replied warmly.

"Good, then it is settled. I shall escort your delectable family back to Highever and return here to be used in whatever fashion that pleases you. If you wish I could merely serve as a darkspawn slaying bad-ass, but I think you may have more use for my other…talents. Need you a back massage or a late night chit-chat? Mayhap some outrageous flirting guaranteed to annoy your beaus? All you need do is ask…then again I'm likely to do all that anyway," he said with a wink and a wicked grin.

"Cad," Alyx replied, unable to help the smile that spread across her lips.

"Ah yes, but I am an utterly gorgeous cad, which of course makes all the difference. Do you want me to cry into your bosom at the unfairness at having to part ways? That would certainly get their attention," Zev continued as he glanced over her shoulder. She didn't have to turn to know that Anders and Nathaniel would be standing somewhere close by.

"I can't decide whether you're merely searching for an excuse to cop a feel or if you're really just as devious as I think you are."

"What can I say? I live to please…especially when bosoms are involved," he replied, wagging his eyebrows at her.

Alyx rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but giggle. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better and she loved him all the more for it. She gave him a quick hug before he sauntered off, leaving her alone with her sister-in-law.

"I'll miss you, Leli," she said as she took her friend's hands in hers and squeezed.

"No tears, ma petite," Leliana replied with a bright smile. "After all, this is not goodbye it is simply farewell. We will see each other again soon."

Alyx nodded, smiling despite the tears that threatened behind her eyes. She dropped Leliana's hands so that she could give her sister a tight hug.

"Don't wait too long to tell him," Leliana whispered in her ear before pulling away just far enough to shoot her a knowing look.

"How did you—" Alyx gasped as she eyed her friend speculatively.

"A wise woman reminded me that if I used my Maker given talents, the answer would only be too clear," Leliana replied, obvious mirth and excitement sparkling in her eyes as she cupped Alyx's face in her small hands. "Oh Falcon, can't you see? He's perfect for you! Don't let your fears get in the way of your happiness or his."

"It's not that simple," Alyx replied with a sigh.

"It is if you want it to be," Leliana replied. "You've become too practical for your own good. Let your heart do the talking and it will all work out."

"From your mouth to the Maker's ears," Alyx murmured as she gave Leliana's hand one last squeeze before turning to search out her brother and daughter with her eyes.

Her brow furrowed in consternation when she saw Fergus and Nate standing to one side, their heads bent together in what looked to be a very serious conversation.

_Now why are they so chummy all of a sudden? _She asked herself as she narrowed her eyes at the pair of them. This was the second time now she'd seen them together and she desperately wanted to know what they were discussing, but she'd rather die before asking either of them to explain.

Nate noticed her lingering gaze first and flashed her a telling smile that frustrated her even further. _Insufferable man! _She inwardly seethed, realizing that somehow he just _knew_ that the curiosity was killing her. By then Fergus had noticed her attention as well. He said a few last words to Nate and then turned to cross the courtyard to join them.

Alyx immediately took Jocelyn from out of his arms and hugged her close as she breathed in her sweet, clean scent for the last time. Jocelyn wrapped her little arms around her mother's neck and snuggled into her embrace with a contented coo. Tears threatened again, but she plastered a smile on her face before her daughter could see them.

"You mind your Uncle Fergus and Aunt Leli," she told Jocelyn, who simply stared up at her in curiosity. "And know that I love you very, very much."

Jocelyn cooed up at her as she pin-wheeled her arms in childish abandon. Alyx brushed a lingering kiss across her daughter's brow, handing her over to Leliana before she lost her will.

"Take care of my girl," she said in a shaky voice.

"I will," Leliana replied with a nod.

Jocelyn continued to gurgle happily until Leliana began to walk towards the carriage. Alyx could see the realization cross her daughter's face as she stared at her over Leliana's shoulder. Her lower lip began to tremble and her eyes suddenly filled as she let out a long wail of protest that wrenched at Alyx's heart.

"She will be fine once we get on the road," Fergus told her as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I know," Alyx said with a sniff.

"Take care of yourself, sister. I love you," he said seriously as he embraced her once more.

"I love you too, Fergus," she replied.

He smiled and turned to join the others and before long they were on their way. Alyx walked aside the carriage until it began to pick up pace, ignoring the dust that flew up from its wheels as she waved goodbye to its occupants. She could feel the stalwart presence of her wardens just behind her, just far enough away to be out of her way, but there just in case she needed them. She was grateful for their silent support, not realizing until this moment how much their presence had steadied her throughout the course of her farewells. She hadn't fallen to pieces as she feared she would, and she had them to thank for it.

Alyx took a deep breath as she straightened her spine and cleared her thoughts. _This is where the real work begins, _she told herself as she shook off the last remnants of sorrow and mentally clicked back into Commander-mode. By the time Varel stepped up beside her she was ready for him.

"Have you done as I asked?"

"Yes, Commander and it is as we expected. Bann Esmerelle and her associates have gone to ground," he replied in his familiar, gravelly voice.

Alyx nodded as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"Place a bounty on their heads, but let it be known that they are to be brought in alive."

"Alive? Are you certain about that?"

"Were this just a personal vendetta I would hunt them down myself, but there's more to it than that. I want to do this right, Varel. Esmerelle and the others will be put to trial and then publically executed. The people of Amaranthine must know that no matter your social standing, such treason will not go unpunished."

"Very well, Commander," Varel said with a bow.

"And as for the rest of you," Alyx continued as she turned to glare at her men. "We leave for the Knotwood Hills first thing in the morning, and when I say first thing I _mean_ it. Up to this point I've been easy on you three, but it is time that you remembered that I am your commanding officer. From now on when I say I want you to be ready at the end of the morning chant I expect you to be geared up, _sober_, and standing in this courtyard when the last note of the last verse is being sung. I will brook no excuses, no arguments and no complaining of any sort unless you are mortally wounded. Cross me and you'll severely regret it. This isn't a pleasure trip, we have a job to do, so suck it up and act like the Grey Wardens I expect you to be."

Without another word Alyx turned on her heel, leaving her men standing in the middle of the courtyard gaping at her retreating form.

"Great," Oghren growled as he turned his angry glare at Anders and Nate. "You two get a little too touchy feely with the boss and she turns all military on us. Had I wanted to spend my days like that I woulda' stayed in the army."

Nate rolled his eyes and Anders sighed as he cross his arms.

"Oh, this is going to be a _wonderfu_l trip, I can just feel it," Anders drawled sarcastically.

"Save it for someone who cares, mage," Nate grumbled.

"Moody git," Anders spat as he narrowed his eyes at the rogue. "Just for that _you_ can be the one to tell Velanna."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Ann and Gabriel" by John Williams (The Patriot OST); "Walkaway" by Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black OST); Satellite Heart by Anya Marina; "Horizon" by Brian Tyler (Children of Dune OST). _


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29 - Sigrun**

Alyx figured she was in for a difficult trip, she just hadn't known precisely _how _difficult it was going to be.

They'd been on the road for two days now and she'd begun to feel like she was playing babysitter instead of Commander. Oghren had been sulking ever since her ultimatum (even though she was actively ignoring the fact he was sneaking sips of whatever brew he had stashed within his traveling cloak and he _knew_ it) and Velanna was…well, being herself. Nate and Anders were obviously ignoring each other, speaking only when absolutely necessary. Even then their remarks to each other were always curt and biting, providing Oghren and Velanna more than enough ammo to entertain themselves with in the long hours on the road. She was under no illusions as to why the two men weren't on speaking terms, but that didn't make it any less irritating. Worse, all of them were walking on eggshells around her. How was she to act as if nothing had changed when they were treating her as if she might spontaneously combust?

Alyx sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She supposed she only had herself to blame. After an entire day of dealing with the constant bickering she'd lost her temper and snarled at all of them like a feral animal. Since then they'd travel in strained silence. She thought she'd be grateful for the quiet, but instead she found she had far too much time for her mind to wander. She _should_ be trying to piece together the enigma the Architect and his talking darkspawn presented, not worrying about whether Nate and Anders' sudden falling out would affect their performance in battle, or whether her confused emotions showed as clearly on her face as they did in her thoughts. She needed a distraction, anything to give her an outlet for her pent up frustrations. Good thing they were headed into darkspawn territory.

The landscape drastically changed as they drew closer to their destination. The ground grew craggy, the road thinning into a long winding path that led them deep into the Knotwood Hills. Alyx had never been in this part of the Arling before and was surprised to find how inhospitable the land was in comparison to the lush, verdant countryside she'd become so familiar with. If she hadn't known any better she would've thought that they were in the middle of a drought. Foliage was scarce here, sticking out from between the uneven ground in dry, brittle clumps. The carcasses of dead, gnarled trees dotted the hillsides like silent sentinels across the barren landscape, the only sign that life ever prevailed in this place.

"I wonder if it is the darkspawn taint that has affected this place so, or if it has always been this way," Alyx mused out loud.

"The Knotwood Hills have ever been a wasteland, though no one quite knows why," Nate replied conversationally. "I've never been this far into the territory myself. Father never would have permitted it," he continued, scowling when Anders snorted in derision.

"I can see why," Alyx said as she shot Anders a warning glance. "This is dangerous countryside. Did you see the size of the sinkholes we passed?"

Nate nodded sagely.

"There are stories of people being swallowed whole by these hills. I often wondered if they were just tall tales, but now I see that there is some merit to them."

Alyx was surprised at first at how much he seemed to know of the area, but then she was reminded that this, _all_ of this, was supposed to have been his inheritance, so of course he would know more than the rest of them. Sudden guilt washed over her as she shot a sideways glance at him. She wondered if he was angry at her for that. He didn't seem to be, but then again he wasn't exactly easy to read. Nate was one of the most level-headed men she'd ever met. What emotions he'd shown thus far had been unexpected and lightning fast, taking her completely off guard in the process.

"Is something wrong?" he asked her, shaking her out of her thoughts.

"Hmm? No, why do you ask?"

"You're staring," he replied softly, gentle amusement dancing in his silverite eyes.

"What? Oh…I was just reminded of the fact that this should all be yours…Amaranthine that is," she replied, flushing in embarrassment. Surprise flashed through his eyes and something else…disappointment perhaps?

"If my father had his way it would have been Tomas's, not mine," he replied coolly.

"But surly after—"

"No. What's done is done. Better that the Wardens have control of the arling than my unscrupulous brother," he replied in a tone that said that the topic was not up for discussion.

Alyx was saddened by Nate's shuttered demeanor. Over the past couple of months he'd begun to open up to her in a way that he never had when they were children, but now he was purposefully shutting her out. She supposed that, too, was her own doing. She noticed that Anders had been acting much of the same way of late, and she knew better than to believe it to be a coincidence. His easy, flirtatious manner had gone by the wayside to be replaced by awkward, stilted conversations and long, hopeful glances that made her uneasy.

A screech and a flutter of wings distracted her from her thoughts as a falcon dived from the sky, nearly taking Anders' head off before arching back into the sky. The mage had ducked just in time and scowled angrily at the bird's departing form before he turned to glare at Alyx. She arched an eyebrow in question, daring him to blame the incident on her somehow.

"Did you see that? Bloody bird just tried to kill me!" he seethed.

"Or it was just trying to get our attention. Look," she replied, pointing behind him. "I believe that is our chasm."

Just over the next pass she could just make out the beginnings of a large crevice, though from here it was difficult to discern its dimensions. As they drew closer Alyx recognized the remains of ancient dwarven architecture from her time in Orzammar during the blight. Anders whistled long and low when they were finally close enough to see just how significant the fissure was.

"And you say the human in town believed no one knew of this place? How does one miss a hole this large?" Velanna exclaimed in disgust.

"Obviously someone knew about it or they wouldn't have attempted to build over it," Nate replied as he pointed out the wooden bridge that led across the chasm.

Alyx stared down into the crumbled remains of what must have been one of the many networks of underground passages the dwarves had built centuries ago to connect the many thaigs spread across the expanse of the ancient dwarven kingdom. It was still baffling to think how far that kingdom had stretched at one time. Now, thanks to the darkspawn, it was but a quarter of its original size and strength. Her heart ached at the thought of the innocent lives that had been lost when Orzammar was forced to seal its doors against the darkspawn horde during the first blight. She'd seen more than enough evidence of the destruction left behind, but she could only fathom what it truly had been like. What would they find down there she wondered?

"It's so strange to see dwarven architecture exposed to the light of day," she murmured.

"Yer tellin' me," Oghren humphed beside her. "Looks like this section of the Deep Roads fell in. Must've been built too close to the surface."

Alyx nodded and signaled for them to follow her.

"We're going down into _that?"_ Anders asked disbelievingly. When the others just stared he snorted. "Figures. Ooh, it's an unstable crumbling chasm! Let's go play in it!"

Alyx rolled her eyes but chose to ignore the mage's attempt at humor as they walked across the bridge and down a pair of rickety wooden stairs that led into the ruin. Alyx stiffened as a familiar dark vibration passed through her body. _Already? _She thought, startled that they would find darkspawn this swiftly. They hadn't even descended into the deep roads yet!

"Commander?" Anders asked from close behind her.

"Five, maybe more," she replied as she drew her weapons in preparation.

The others followed suit as they cautiously moved into the ruins. Alyx picked up the pace when she began to hear the sounds of a struggle taking place somewhere ahead of them. When they turned the corner she could see the pint-sized figure of a female dwarf in splint-mail running up the ramp, a small contingent of darkspawn hot on her heels. A tall gruesome-looking hurlock tripped the dwarf and grabbed her by the leg, dragging her back towards the darkened entrance leading back into the roads. The woman flailed about, desperately trying to free herself from the darkspawn's grasp, but her arms were simply not long enough to find purchase.

Suddenly Alyx heard a _fwmp_ followed by the hurlock's howl of pain as an arrow lodged deep within its eye. She turned to see Nate already nocking another arrow, cold calculation in his steely eyes. By the time she turned back the dwarf had regained her footing and was furiously fighting the injured hurlock with a dirk and a wicked looking axe. The rest of the darkspawn had noted their presence and were swiftly moving up the ramp, hissing and growling in anger as they charged the wardens. Between the five of them they made short work of the group, four hurlocks and an alpha in total.

When all was quiet again Alyx approached the loan dwarf, suspicion advising her to be weary. The woman sheathed her weapons and pulled off the horned helmet she was wearing to wipe the sweat from her brow with one arm. Alyx noted short, mouse brown hair pulled into stubby tails tucked behind her ears, and large blue eyes heavy with fatigue. Her face was heavily tattooed, signifying her as castless. _Why is a castless dwarf roaming so far from Orzammar, and alone? _Alyx wondered.

"Thanks," the dwarf breathed. "That was…close. For a moment there I thought I was really about to join the Legion of the Dead."

_Ah, so that explains it, _Alyx thought, relaxing her guard at the woman's words.

"Are you alright?" she asked her. "Do you need help?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I just need to catch my breath," the dwarf replied. "Anyway, I can't chat. I should probably go back…as foolish as that sounds. See if there's anything I can do."

"Back where?"

"The old fortress of Kal'Hirol. There's something going on there. I think the darkspawn are breeding an army. The Legion went to investigate, but Kal'Hirol proved too much for us. It was a massacre, and now…I'm the only one left."

Grief flashed in the woman's wide blue eyes and Alyx's heart went out to her. The Legion were perhaps the only other group in all of Fereldan, perhaps even in all of Thedas, who understood the darkspawn threat as well as the Grey Wardens. Alyx had fought alongside the Legion in the Deep Roads during the blight and had been impressed with their extensive knowledge and prowess in battle. But if they truly had all perished as the woman implied…

"How did you get away?" Alyx asked.

"When I saw my friends all cut down, I…I got scared and fled. The darkspawn have changed; they're smart now. They destroyed the Legion. I saw them taking some of the women and I wasn't about to stick around for that."

"Good decision," Alyx murmured, shuttering at the thought of what happened to women who were captured by the darkspawn. The broodmother they'd fought during the blight had given her nightmares for months afterwards. The dwarf nodded in agreement at her words.

"There are many things worse than death, and birthing darkspawn day and night is probably the worst. But if the darkspawn are breeding an army…I can't stay here. I have to do something!" she cried, desperation edging her voice.

"We're Grey Wardens. We'll go to Kal'Hirol," Alyx replied, the others nodding in agreement behind her.

"Huh. That's convenient. The ancestors must have had a hand in this. I'll show you the way. Safety in numbers, yes?" the dwarf said hopefully.

From the determined look in the other woman's eyes Alyx could see that she would return to Kal'Hirol one way or another. Better that she travel with them rather than get herself killed trying to stop the darkspawn on her own.

"Come with us then," Alyx replied.

"Excellent!" the dwarf crowed. "With your help destroying this nest is no longer impossible, merely…improbable!"

"Oh. An optimist then," Anders muttered dryly.

Alyx shot the mage a warning look before she stepped up and offered her hand to the dwarf.

"I'm Warden-Commander Alyxandria, though most just call me Falcon," she said as she shook the woman's hand and quickly introduced the rest of the wardens.

"Well met," the dwarf said cheerfully. "I am Sigrun. Shall we? Time is of the essence."

"Wait…Anders?" Alyx said as she beckoned the mage forward.

Anders nodded and crossed to Sigrun.

"Hold out your arm," he told her.

"What? Why?" Sigrun asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Anders is a healer. If you're to come with us into the roads it is best for you to do so fully functional," Alyx replied.

Sigrun eyed her and then Anders speculatively, but then gingerly held out her left arm, wincing in pain as she did so. Anders ran his hands gently over the wounded arm, his hands briefly glowing blue as he worked. Sigrun's eyes widened in surprise and then wonder as the healing magic knitted her wound back together.

"Whoa," she breathed as she clenched and unclenched her fist, testing the muscles to be sure that she was really healed. "Do it again!" she crowed in excitement.

"Uh, I can't…not unless you want me to reinjure it and heal it back up again," Anders said in confusion.

"Oh. Never mind then," she chirped happily. "Come now! Let's not waste any more time. Kal'Hirol awaits and darkspawn, when left to their own devices, get up to all kinds of nonsense."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30 – Deep Below**

"Stay alert. There's likely more than darkspawn down here," Alyx called as they entered the heavy darkness of the Deep Roads.

"What else could possibly live in this disgusting place other than darkspawn?" Velanna asked in surprise.

"Deepstalkers, giant poisonous spiders…if it's large and scary and wants to eat you it's probably down here," Sigrun replied cheerfully with a flippant shrug of the shoulders.

"That's…disturbing," Nate offered from somewhere behind her in the darkness.

"Glad to be of service!" Sigrun chirped.

Alyx shook her head in amusement. It seemed that their new companion had a peculiarly perky attitude towards what most would see as impending death. Of course as a member of the Legion of Dead she was figuratively _already_ dead, but it was a surprising quality nonetheless.

"Ugh! What is that smell?" Anders complained.

"Corruption," Alyx replied evenly. "You'd best get used to it now. It'll only get worse the deeper we go." Though difficult to explain to someone who never experienced it, the singular stench of the darkspawn taint was an odor one would not soon forget. Alyx had recognized it the moment they'd entered the roads.

"Oh, that's just _wonderful,"_ Anders drawled as he held his staff up and whispered a spell that emitted a pulsing light from his staff that lit the path in front of them. Though dim, it was enough for Alyx to see that the entire area had been utterly consumed by the encroaching taint. It covered everything in a dark, crawling sludge that made it nearly impossible to see the majestic, albeit deteriorated stonework beneath. It was so thick in some places that she could hear it squishing underneath her boot heels, making her cringe in disgust.

"I think the wall just slimed me," Velanna moaned, sounding as if she were about to be sick. Alyx could hardly blame her.

This was perhaps the last place she wanted to be. To her these roads held nothing but bad memories and the promise of a frightening and bloody future. Glancing over at Oghren she realized that he would be just as affected as she. On their last trip into the Deep Roads he'd been forced to slay his first wife, Branka. No matter how poorly she'd treated Oghren, and despite the fact that she'd been completely mad in the end, Alyx knew it had still torn him to pieces to kill her…though he'd probably rather go without booze for a month than to admit to it. Her plan to keep him sober suddenly seemed to be more of a cruelty with that in mind.

"Keep going straight. It's not much further," Sigrun said softly behind her as they reached a crossroads leading in three different directions.

Alyx nodded and continued ahead. As Commander and the most senior warden amongst them she'd automatically taken the lead. She would sense the darkspawn before the rest of them and could warn them of numbers and, in some cases, varieties ahead of time. She could sense them already though thankfully, at a distance. Of course with so many wardens present that was bound to change and quickly. It was only a matter of time.

"So why were the darkspawn after you?" Anders asked Sigrun, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

"I'm sure they intended to turn me into a broodmother. They do that with females you know, and darkspawn are nothing if not predictable," Sigrun replied.

_"Were_ predictable," Nate interjected. "We really can't assume that now that they've become intelligent."

"All the same, no females are to be captured, _period." _Alyx replied, leaving the word _alive _unsaid but implied. By the heavy silence that followed she knew they understood.

"Do you really believe you're dead?" Anders continued eventually, his curiosity apparently getting the better of him. Alyx held back a snort as she silently waited to hear Sigrun's reaction.

"In a matter of speaking," Sigrun replied. "When we join the Legion we leave our old life behind, symbolically dying in the process."

"Is there some great ceremony that takes place when you join?"

"It's called a funeral."

"Right, but is it boring and somber like a regular funeral? I mean, you're not burying anyone…"

"This is true," Sigrun replied after a thoughtful pause. "Dwarven funerals involve a great deal of ale and singing. Then there is an orgy."

"What? You're kidding!" Anders crowed in shock.

"Of course I'm kidding," Sigrun replied. Alyx could almost hear the dwarf rolling her eyes in response.

"Well then, what's the ceremony actually like?" Anders pressed.

Sigrun sighed.

"It begins with chanting and toasts. Then we bid our families farewell. Then, wailing and tears."

"That _does_ sound like a funeral. How depressing," Anders replied, sounding a bit disappointed by this revelation.

"We're not the Legion of Jaunty Pub Songs," Sigrun snapped in irritation.

"But think how much easier recruitment would be if you were!" Anders quipped in return.

"Is he always like this?" Sigrun asked to no one in particular.

"Yes," a chorus of voices said in response.

"He-ey!" Anders protested.

"If you learned to keep that mouth of yours shut every once and a while, human, you would have no reason to be offended," Velanna muttered irritably.

"Perhaps you should take your own advice, _elf," _Anders snapped back.

"Enough," Alyx commanded, her patience finally giving out. "We have more important concerns."

The wardens behind her immediately silenced and soon Alyx found herself wishing they would begin talking again. The strangest part about tainted ground, something she'd nearly forgotten over the years, was how unnaturally quiet it was. Creepy wasn't nearly a strong enough word to describe it.

The path before them suddenly opened onto a vast natural cavern, an underground river snaking through the remains of dwarven architecture. Natural light trickled in from a gap in the ceiling high above them, though it was not enough to make much of a dent in the surrounding darkness.

_Kal'Hirol, _Alyx thought as she surveyed the scene before her.

It had always been a private source of amusement and wonder to her that the dwarves had a propensity for building everything at such a grand scale when they were so physically small themselves. During the blight she'd seen statues ten times the size of anything she'd ever seen on the surface. It was mind-boggling really. She couldn't help but be impressed with the craftsmanship still evident in the stonework despite the damage the darkspawn had wreaked over the years; and that so much of the ancient, unused architecture still stood hundreds of years later was a testament to their unsurpassed skills.

"These are mainly outbuildings; private residences, shops and the like. The fortress itself is still up the path a ways," Sigrun said as she stepped up next to her to look out over the ruin.

"What do you know of Kal'Hirol?" Alyx asked as she turned to look at the woman.

"Not much. Just what the others from the Legion told me. It used to be important, a center of learning for the smith caste. When the fortress was lost, a lot of what the smith's learned was lost with it. They've never built anything quite like Kal'Hirol since," Sigrun replied, her gaze growing distant as she talked. Perhaps she was imagining what it had been like before the darkspawn, or perhaps she was thinking about her fallen friends; Alyx couldn't tell for sure.

"Are you ready to move on?" she asked Sigrun.

The other woman nodded and directed them down a steep dirt path into the heart of the cavern. They had barely reached the bottom of the path before Alyx heard Sigurn's sharp intake of breath.

"Jukka," Sigrun whispered, her face draining of all color. She took off at a sprint before anyone could stop her.

"Sigrun, wait!" Alyx called after her, but the dwarf ignored her. To Alyx's surprise and relief she dropped to her knees a few yards away, crouching over what appeared to be a pile of rubble near the river bank. "Come on," Alyx commanded to the others, sighing in both irritation and concern as she followed after Sigrun.

When they drew closer Alyx could see that the woman wasn't crouched over rubble at all but another dwarf in heavy armor, mortally wounded by the looks of it.

"It's Jukka. He's hurt. Bad," Sigrun explained, her eyes never leaving the crumpled figure in front of her.

"S-Sigrun?" the dwarf stuttered as he tried to focus his eyes on Sigrun.

"Yes, it's me. Be still and try not to talk," she replied softly as she helped him into a sitting position.

"There must be something we can do for him," Alyx said, looking back at Anders over her shoulder in question. The mage shook his head in the negative, his hazel eyes silently apologizing. That look said all she needed to know: it was too late for this poor man.

"No," Jukka ground out. "I feel my death upon me, and it is a sweet release."

"No!" I have bandages! I can help—"

"You must listen!" Jukka growled, grabbing Sigrun weakly by her chest plate as he tried to catch his breath. He coughed harshly, a line of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "The…the broodmothers…they are breeding. I saw an…an army. You…you must stop them. But…but beware the children," he wheezed.

"What…what children? _Whos_e children?" Sigrun asked, confusion and panic spreading across her face.

"For…give…me…" Jukka gasped painfully. His eyes rolled up into his head, the deep, rattling gasps for air finally slowing then stopping altogether.

Sigrun reached out a shaking hand to brush Jukka's face with her fingers. When there was no response she closed her eyes and bowed her head in defeat.

"Ancestors look kindly on you, brother," she murmured sadly, her shoulders shaking once in pain before she straightened and looked back at the rest of them in determination. "We have to finish what the Legion started. Those broodmothers need to be destroyed."

"Agreed," Alyx replied, placing a comforting hand on Sigrun's shoulder. "And you will have your vengeance my friend. This I promise you."

Sigrun nodded and clasped Alyx's arm in a sign of respect, a silent understanding passing between the two women as they stared into each other's eyes.

Alyx stiffened as a sudden, terrifying screech sounded from across the river, echoing the pulse of dark energy that shot through her system like an arrow. It could only mean one thing: darkspawn.

"Uh, Commander…I think we're about to have some company," Nate called as he drew his bow and nocked an arrow in preparation. The others drew their weapons as well, each of them circling in place as the hue and cry went up in all directions. They were surrounded.

"I think it's safe to say that the darkspawn know we're here," Alyx replied lightly as she dropped into a defensive position.

"Nice of them to send out a welcoming party, isn't it?" Anders quipped, flashing Alyx a devious smile as he twirled his staff in anticipation.

"My thoughts precisely," she replied, returning his smile.

"Are all topsiders this crazy?" Sigrun asked as she looked between them.

"Just us wardens," Alyx replied.

They fought wave after wave of darkspawn as they slowly progressed through the ruins to the entrance of Kal'Hirol. It felt like they'd been fighting for hours, though how long it had actually been, Alyx couldn't know for sure. It was difficult to keep up with the passage of time in the eternal darkness of the Deep Roads.

"Maker, but they never give up, do they?" Anders breathed as he collapsed against a sturdy stone wall. He was pale and sweating from the excursion of battle. It took only a glance for Alyx to realize he was dangerously close to using up the last of his mana stores.

They were all exhausted, in fact, and in desperate need of reprieve. She closed her eyes and reached out with her senses, trying to pin-point the closest cluster of darkspawn.

"When one knows there's a threat they all do. That is the nature of the group-mind. We'll likely be swarmed the moment we enter the main fortress, but we should be safe enough for now," she said as she pulled a small vial from out of her pack and held it out to Anders. He eyed the unmistakable blue liquid inside and shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said, refusing the vial.

"You won't be if we're attacked again anytime soon. Don't make me command you to drink it," she replied. He eyed it warily but eventually took it out of her hands, downing the lyrium with a grateful smile. She sighed, realizing she would have to talk to Velanna about sharing some of the healing responsibilities with him. Neither mage would like it, but Anders was taking too much upon himself.

Alyx turned to walk away but Anders surprised her by grabbing her arm. She turned back to arch an eyebrow at him in question. He silently gestured with a subtle move of his head and a meaningful glance over her shoulder. She looked around to see Sigrun sitting by herself and at a distance from everyone else. She mouthed a "thank you" to Anders and walked over to talk with their new companion.

"You never told me what happened," Alyx said softly as she sat next to Sigrun on a cracked stone bench facing the entrance to Kal'Hirol. She had to admit that it was an impressive sight. A large courtyard stood before them, lined with massive pillars inlaid with the sort of runes and scrollwork that had become a familiar sight over the course of the blight. At the far end of the courtyard was a long flight of stairs that led to a massive set of iron doors just visible from their position.

Sigrun was staring forlornly up at those doors, almost as if she expected something to happen if she stared at them long enough. She sighed at Alyx's words.

"The Legion got this far with no trouble. We got careless, and complacent, and stormed the main entrance…up those stairs. It was a disaster. The darkspawn were waiting. They turned the thaig's old defenses against us.

"Traps?" Alyx guessed.

"And more," Sigrun replied with a nod. "Ancient dwarven ingenuity, used by the very monsters it was intended to kill. We need to learn from the Legion's mistake. Avoid the main door," she said forcefully.

"Then what do you suggest?"

Sigrun pursed her lips in thought.

"Most of these old dwarven fortresses had hidden side entrances. I bet this one does too. We just need to find it."

_Which would be easier said than done, _Alyx thought. Hidden doors. Traps. She could only guess as to what else they would find once inside the ancient fortress. She supposed there was only one way to find out.

* * *

**Muse Tunes: **_"A Journey in the Dark" by Howard Shore (LotR:Fellowship of the Ring OST); "The Passage of the Marshes" by Howard Shore (LotR:The Two Towers OST); "Elektra's Second Life" by Christophe Beck (Elektra OST). _


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31 – Kal'Hirol**

Nate had heard stories of the ancient thaigs; of a time long ago when the dwarven empire was vast and powerful, but such things were difficult to imagine when faced with the evidence of its near complete inhalation. Kal'Hirol was a ruin, and had been as much for hundreds of years. That much was clear without having heard Sigrun's stilted account of the place, though it was obvious that even she knew little about its history.

Nothing about the Deep Roads was what Nate had expected it to be. The stench of corruption was so potent that he'd nearly gagged upon first entering the roads. It was like sulfur, bile and carrion all wrapped into a single repulsive odor that poured into his lungs and immediately set them to burning. That wasn't the worst of it though. There was a profound darkness to this place that he knew was not entirely due to the fact that they were deep underground. It seeped into his pores to vibrate just under his skin; humming in the back of his brain with the constant sensation of darkspawn presence that crashed over him in waves.

Alyx, Oghren and Sigrun were the only members of their party that did not seem to be especially affected by the unsettling atmosphere. He supposed it was a matter of familiarity, for they all had experienced it before. Still, he could not imagine ever getting used to such a place.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he heard Anders ask their new dwarven companion as Sigrun ran her hands over a section of the wall in front of them.

"No, but it's either this or get slaughtered the second we enter the main door. Which do you prefer?" Sigrun replied over-sweetly.

"Point taken," Anders mumbled, stepping back to give the woman room to work.

A moment later Sigrun hooted in victory as a portion of the wall ground open to reveal a corridor leading into the fortress. As they entered Nate noticed that the taint was even thicker inside, consuming every inch of the crumbling stonework. He swallowed the bile that surged into his throat at the sickening sensation that swept over him.

"Wait," Alyx commanded, stopping them at a distance from a large stone door at the end of the corridor.

She bent to scoop up a bit of masonry and chucked it across the room. It bounced across the floor to skid to a stop just before the door. Nate could hear an audible click just before the room exploded with light as a ball of fire jettisoned from the mouth of fixture carved into the wall. He reflexively shielded his eyes from the blast but could still feel the intense heat coming off the flames in waves.

"Andraste's knicker-weasels! How did you know that was there?" Anders asked once the trap sputtered out and the corridor was dark once again.

"They're easy enough to spot once you know what to look for," Alyx replied nonchalantly. "You see the pattern on the floor there? It camouflages the pressure plate that triggers the trap. You're better off walking around any portions of floor that looks conspicuous."

"Wonderful. As if we don't have enough to worry about with the darkspawn running about," the mage muttered.

"No one said it would be easy sparkles," Oghren growled irritably. "Now if yer' done whinen' I think there's a bunch of darkspawn on the other side of that door that are jest beggin' to be pummeled."

"Just so," Nate murmured in agreement. He could sense the large group nearby and prepared himself for the battle soon to come.

Adrenaline began to pump through his veins. He could hear the darkspawn grunting and growling on the other side, working themselves into a frenzy that pulsed beneath his own skin in response. His fingers twitched around his bow in anticipation, not knowing what to expect but ready for the worst.

The door opened before them, sending out a burst of heat and corruption to great them. He barely heard Alyx scream "Golem!" before a gigantic stone fist came hurling towards his face. He ducked and rolled out of the way, coming up just in time to see the golem take a large chunk out of the wall exactly where his head had been. It turned and came at him with a grunt of frustration, growing noticeably more and more irritated as he continued to evade its grasp.

It took only a glance for Nate to realize that his bow would be useless in this fight. He tucked it back in its holster and whipped out his dirk instead. He passed it between his hands as he sized up the stone giant, quickly trying to ascertain a weak spot. There was none that he could see, but surely there had to be a way to defeat it. He ducked another massive swing and stabbed the dirk upwards into a crease just under its arm. The golem roared in anger and turned to bat at the weapon, almost as if it was nothing more than a gnat nipping at its flesh (if the massive stone armor that composed the whole of its body could even be considered flesh). Nate was forced to pull back and move out of its way or be crushed. He continued to duck and circle the golem but was unable to get close enough to do any real damage. _How the hell does one kill a giant walking boulder anyway? _He thought as sweat began to pour down his face. Nate could sense his energy beginning to ebb and felt a moment of silent panic. It would only be a matter of time before he was too exhausted to continue this dance and the golem would surely overtake him.

In a moment of bad luck he lost his footing and the golem grabbed him up by the neck. He struggled to get free, pulling on its grasp with both his hands but to no avail. His vision began to swim as it got harder and harder to breathe. He could feel his limbs grow heavy, his body reflexively going limp as the darkness began to claim him. The golem raised its free arm, slowly pulling it back past its shoulder. Nate closed his eyes, not wanting the last thing he saw to be the golem's eerie, vacant stare. Instead he thought of Alyx. His heart ached at the thought that he would never get the chance to tell her how he truly felt. _I'm sorry, _he thought as he braced himself for impact.

The blow never came.

Nate opened one eye then the other and was surprised to see the golem's fist frozen in place just inches from his face. A moment later it released him, sending him tumbling to the ground at its feet. The sudden flood of oxygen to his lungs made him sputter and gasp, yet at the same time it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. He was _alive. _

"Maker, are you alright?" Alyx's voice came from nearby.

He looked up to see her crouched next to him, concern etched across her face. Velanna appeared at his other side. He shook his head at her silent question.

"I'm fine," he rasped, his throat burning painfully with the words. "Save your energy."

She nodded once and moved away, leaving him alone with Alyx.

"What happened?" he asked her as he got to his feet.

"There was an emissary amongst the darkspawn numbers. He had this," she replied, holding up a strange-looking metal rod.

"Which is…?" he asked in confusion.

"It's a control rod for the golems."

"Golem-_s_...you mean to tell me there are more of those things?" he croaked in surprise.

Alyx waved a hand to the courtyard below them. Nate looked over to see three more of the stone giants slumped in great alcoves on each side of the entrance.

"There's likely more where that came from, though they shouldn't be an issue now," Alyx continued. "I am only sorry I couldn't get to the control rod sooner. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Well enough," he rasped, shooting her a wobbly smile. "Shall we move on?"

She eyed him speculatively for a long moment, likely trying to ascertain whether or not he was lying. Whatever she saw in his expression must have assuaged her concerns for she merely nodded and signaled for them continue.

A sudden, unnatural hush fell over them as they moved deeper into the keep. Nate shivered, an eerie feeling settling in as they walked down a long flight of stairs. Was he going mad or had the temperature really just drop dramatically in the past few minutes?

"Do you feel that?" he said, his voice sounding overly-loud in the stillness. He was surprised to see his breath coming out in wispy puffs as he spoke.

"This place is broken," Velanna whispered behind him as she trembled from the chill in the air.

Without warning a war cry breached the quiet and a white mist crept into the corridor. The wardens jumped back in shock as ghostly apparitions of both dwarves and darkspawn alike sprung to life before their very eyes. The sound of clashing steel tinged the air as the spirits furiously battled each other. Anders reached out with his staff, his eyes widening as it passed clean through a pair of vaporous figures closest to him.

"Creepy," he drawled.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Sigrun breathed in fascination. "They say memory stays in the stone forever…is this what they mean?"

"I think you may have something there," Alyx replied. "This must be an impression of sorts…of the darkspawn siege that took place here during the first blight."

"Hmph. At least they're not attackin' _us,"_ Oghren grunted.

"You're kidding right?" Anders hooted in disbelief, his face falling when Oghren's expression didn't change. "Maker, you're serious!" he cried in mild surprise.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Oghren replied. "Ortan thaig was chock full of 'em."

"I found that places of great strife are often filled with more than just dust and memories," Alyx replied darkly. "Let us be on our guard. They haven't attacked us yet, but that doesn't mean they won't."

Another shiver ran down Nate's spine at that pronouncement. How was one supposed to kill what was already dead? He hoped he would never have to find out.

They entered yet another cavernous room, this one partially blocked by tall, roughly hewn barricades. A large group of dwarven spirits appeared as they passed through, a heavily armored apparition standing on a raised platform before them giving a stirring speech in the ancient dwarven tongue. He asked Sigrun to translate and was surprised when it was Alyx who was the one to reply.

"It's useful to know," she said with a shrug and a smile when he eyed her in bewilderment. He smiled to himself after she turned away. Would she ever stop surprising him? He doubted it.

They continued through a maze of dilapidated buildings, occasionally running into small contingents of darkspawn and more spirits of the men and women who once lived here. The deeper into the keep the went the more frightened the spirits seem to be. Nate was confused by their whispered conversations. Something wasn't adding up. These weren't warriors but women and children, grizzled old men and angry younglings. Who were these people?

"Sigrun?" Alyx whispered.

The woman had sunk to the ground, a tattered moldy tome clutched within her hands. Her face had gone completely white.

"It's…a journal. Written by the warrior Dailan. He…ancestor's blood!" Sigrun began, her hands trembling with anger.

"What is it?" Ander asked as he crouched beside her.

"Kal'Hirol was evacuated when the reports about the darkspawn began to come in. They left the casteless behind…left them to the darkspawn…to die like dogs," she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dailan volunteered to stay behind with his men. He knew it wouldn't be enough, so he organized the casteless. He armed them, inspired them to fight…they died, every one of them to a man."

Nate didn't know much about the casteless. Only that they were considered to be less than nothing, that they were the poorest of the poor and often times forced into a criminal existence. It was sad that they would abandon these people to such a cruel fate, no matter what they were considered to be.

Alyx placed a comforting hand on Sigrun's shoulder, empathy flashing in her cerulean eyes. Nate could almost hear her saying, _I'm sorry but we must move on, the darkspawn await. Let us prove that their sacrifice was not in vain. _Sigrun's lips thinned in barely contained anger, but she nodded once and stood, slipping the tome into her pack for safe-keeping.

They continued their trek in strained silence. Knowing the injustices that transpired here had given the thaig a sense of sorrow that Nate hadn't noticed before. He could almost hear the cries of the dying, weeping in lament of their fate. To make matters worse the darkspawn numbers were growing the further into the thaig they traveled. _We must be getting close to their nest, _he thought as Sigrun led them into the trade quarter.

The darkspawn seemed to thrive in this part of the thaig. He'd noticed that there was twice as many of the pustule sacs he'd seen in other infested areas lining the walls and ceilings. There was also something else…cocoon-like pods that seemed to undulate if one got too close. He could only guess what they held. He really didn't want to know, but had a bad feeling they would soon find out.

He didn't have long to think about it however. The tunnel they'd been traveling through opened onto a large courtyard teaming with darkspawn. This was not so surprising, but what they were doing was.

"Are they _fighting_ each other?" Sigrun gasped in surprise.

The six of them stood there, stunned at what they were witnessing. There could be no doubt that the darkspawn were fighting each other. _But why? _

"Have you ever seen this before?" Anders asked as he turned to Alyx.

"Never. There's no time to wonder about it now. Fighting or no, everything down there has to die," she replied. The others nodded in agreement, grim determination in each of their expressions as they joined the fray.

The darkspawn infighting turned out to be an unexpected advantage, enabling the wardens to use the confusion of the moment to swiftly take out the entire group. They continued in this fashion as they effortlessly cut through the trade quarter, the darkspawn falling at a greater rate than any of them could have ever expected or hoped for.

Alas, that was to be the end of their good luck.

Swarms of giant, grub-like creatures attacked them the moment they entered the nest. They were vicious, relentless monsters with razor sharp teeth and lightning fast reflexes.

"Ugh, what _are_ these things?" Velanna gasped in disgust.

"These must be the 'children' Jukka mentioned," Sigrun supplied. "Do you suppose they're baby darkspawn? I've never seen baby darkspawn before."

"I don't think so, not in the sense that you're suggesting," Alyx replied. "I think they must be a new strain of darkspawn."

"First they're fighting each other and then these…_things_ appear. What the hell is going on? This isn't even a blight!" Anders growled.

Still more disturbing were the hatchlings; larger versions of the childer grubs with long, spindly legs and sharp talon-like claws. They attacked and devoured everything in their sight, including their darkspawn brethren. _Abominations…_that's what Jukka had called them, and now Nate could see why.

"We can't let anything escape this place," Alyx said as she eyed the dozens of cocoons still left unhatched.

Who knew how far the nest stretched or how many children were left alive. Had any breeched the surface? They hadn't heard any reports of new darkspawn being seen, but if any were left behind it would only be a matter of time before they did. Nate had to agree with the Commander. They must be eliminated.

"How do you propose we do this?" Nate asked.

A slow, wicked smile curved Alyx's lips as she dug through her pack, crowing in triumph as she pulled forth a vial filled with a concoction Nate did not recognize. She pulled the stopper with a loud _pop _and immediately began to scamper from mound to mound, liberally dousing each grouping of pods until the vile was emptied of its contents.

"Uh…Commander? What on Thedas are you doing?" Anders asked.

"Dworkin gave me a few vials of a potion he's been working on…highly flammable and strictly experimental of course," she replied as she pulled another bottle from her pack.

"Is that really a good idea?" Nate asked, eyeing Alyx wearily.

"You have a better one?" she asked as she cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

Nate shook his head. He disliked the idea of using anything experimental, especially when it came from Dworkin. For all he knew the potion would set the entire fortress ablaze or at the very least, block their exit. _But…_as their leader he had to trust Alyx's judgment. He prayed that she knew what she was doing.

After Alyx poured yet another vial of the concoction over the pathway, they moved into the relative safety of a stairwell at the far end of the nest.

"Do it," she told Anders, who shot her a crooked smile, cracked his knuckles, and let loose a fireball twice the size of his head. It went crashing into the ground several feet from where they stood and ripped down the pathway with incredible speed. The flames spindled and shot off in a dozen different directions, quickly consuming the nest. The remaining childer grubs screamed in pain as the pods exploded and melted into thick black globs. The amazing thing was that the fire was controlled, spreading only to the areas Alyx had spread Dworkin's potion.

"It will burn out on its own after awhile…or so Dworkin claims," she said, shooting Nate a knowing smile. Nate shook his head in amazement, a small, appreciative smile twitching up one side of his mouth.

Suddenly a loud, feral roar echoed down the stairs and shook the ground beneath their feet. The sound sent chills up Nate's spine.

"What the bloody hell is _that?"_ Anders gasped.

"Dragon?" Nate asked.

"I don't think so," Alyx replied. "But whatever it is, it's big. Let's go take a look."

It wasn't a dragon. The stairs led to a long corridor and at the end, a massive circular chamber. Inside stood a golem twice the size of the one that nearly killed him. Unlike the other golems they'd encountered throughout the fortress, this one appeared to be made completely of hot molten lava. Nate gulped. He was so preoccupied with the creature that he barely registered the two darkspawn that were also present within the room…until the golem snatched one of them up.

These darkspawn were unlike any he'd seen before. Each of them wore chainmail and brightly colored jerkins, one in red the other in blue. Both wore face paint and had disturbingly intelligent eyes. Nate stared in amazement as the darkspawn in red began to speak.

"The architect sends many but does not come himself. He is a coward!" it cried in its strange, raspy voice. Anger flashed in its milky eyes as it glared at the darkspawn trapped within the golem's grasp. "I will kill you, and he will know that he has failed to destroy the lost! He will know that the mother will tear him apart!" As if on cue the golem raised his prisoner high in the air and, repositioning its massive hands one on each end of the darkspawn's torso, tore it in half with a sickening, wet crunch.

"I don't think a control rod is going to work on this one," Alyx murmured.

"Who comes now?" the talking darkspawn called, finally noticing their presence. "I can feel you but _you_ are no darkspawn. What trickery is he planning? You will die, as all who serve the Architect will die. The mother demands it!"

_First the Architect, now the Mother…what the hell is going on? _Nate thought frantically.

"I'll take care of this bastard, the rest of you concentrate on the golem," Alyx called, already taking off across the room.

_Is she crazy? _He thought as he watched her face-off with the talking darkspawn. Another ear-splitting bellow escaped the golem as Velanna summoned roots from beneath the stone to wrap around its massive arms and legs. It swung in circles, desperately trying to shake off the spell, but as soon as it ripped the roots from the ground more sprung up. He could see Oghren and Sigrun dancing around its legs, nimbly dodging blows as they hacked away at the golem's legs. Anders, on the other hand, was conjuring and impressive blizzard directly over its head. Nate was torn between doing as he was commanded and the instinct to protect Alyx. She seemed to be holding her own, but in the end he decided to divide his attention between the two.

Each time one of the golem's massive fists connected with the floor a burst of flame exploded into the air, flooding the room with a thick black smoke. Within minutes Nate was unable to see through the haze at all. He moved in slowly, pulling his dirk from his belt with one hand as he shielded his eyes with the other. He followed the sounds of battle until he was able to make out the outline of a figure straight ahead. It was Anders. Even from this distance Nate could see the mage was stretched to his limit and yet he continued to conjure. Suddenly the inferno golem was towering over them, raising its fist to send down a blow that would surely kill them both.

"Watch out!" Nate yelled as he pushed Anders out of the way.

The ground shook under his feet as the golem's fist plowed into the floor, the heat from the ensuing blast searing his skin. A large piece of masonry splintered from the floor and flew into the air, piercing his shoulder as surly as it was an arrow. The blow sent him flying across the room to land with a thud against the wall. Nate saw stars as the back of his head cracked against the stone. He opened his mouth to scream in pain but nothing came out but a soft gasp as he dropped to the floor. The putrid smell of charred flesh and blood burned in his nostrils as he struggled to maintain consciousness. He heard someone cry his name, and then Alyx was there, her hands gently pushing him back against the cool stone. It was only then that he realized that he'd been thrashing in pain.

"Sh-shhh, relax," she said as she inspected his wound, her nostrils suddenly flaring in anger. "Just what the hell do you think you were doing?"

He was taken aback by her words but then he saw the fear in her eyes…fear for him. _I must be wounded badly, _he thought. He hadn't been able to bring himself to look at the damage, but he could feel the blood trickling down his arm.

"Doing? I was trying to save Anders' ungrateful ass," he rasped. He could see the mage lying face down on the floor a few feet away. Anders groaned and slowly began to try to push himself up.

Nate could see the question in Alyx's eyes, but what could he tell her? His actions had been instinctive, yet still he knew why he risked his life for Anders. If there was any chance that she returned the mage's affections, she would never forgive any of them if he were to die.

"I'm going to have to pull that out if we're to have any chance at staunching the blood," Alyx murmured, her cerulean eyes concentrated on the rock fragment jutting out of his wounded shoulder.

"Do it," he gasped.

"This is going to hurt like hell," she warned with a look of apology. Nate nodded, bracing himself. "Alright, in one…two…"

This time he screamed.

"Nate? Look at me, _stay_ with me!" she pleaded as he felt the darkness try to pull him under.

He shook his head; using every ounce of energy he had left to stay conscious. He felt something warm and tingly slide over his shoulder and looked down to see Alyx holding a healing poultice over the wound. Nate sighed as he felt the restorative powers of the poultice begin to work. He reached up with his free hand and placed it over hers, gently squeezing it in silent gratitude. Her hand was soft and warm and he could feel the skin leap under his touch, but she didn't pull away as he feared she would. He looked into her eyes and though he could not decipher the emotion within them, saw a warmth there that gave him hope. He clung to that hope as the world began to blur and then finally fade to black…

When he woke Alyx was still kneeling beside him.

"How long was I out?" he rasped as he tried to sit up.

"Not long. How do you feel?" she asked.

"Woozy…but otherwise whole," he replied, surprised that the pain that had overwhelmed him earlier was all but gone. He glanced at his shoulder and scowled at the dried blood streaked across his armor. There was a tear in the leather where the splinter had pierced, but the skin beneath was whole and unblemished. He tested his shoulder and found that it was stiff but otherwise pain free.

"This isn't going to become a habit of yours is it?" Alyx asked him, amusement sparkling within her eyes.

"Maker, I hope not! It's too bloody painful," he replied as one side of his mouth twitched up into a lop-sided smile.

"All better now?" Anders interjected. The mage looked absolutely exhausted; his eyes wild and glazed over. When Nate nodded Anders shot him a strained smile and walked off without another word.

"What's with him?" Nate asked Alyx.

"He took a great deal of lyrium to heal you," Alyx replied with a frown.

"Addled him did it?"

"Yes, but he'll be fine…just as long as he doesn't take anymore."

_Anders healed me…and apparently risked his mental state to do so. _Nate didn't know if he should be surprised at that. After all, they hadn't exactly been on the best of terms lately. _Perhaps that's his way of saying thank you, _he thought.

"Do you think you're in fighting form?" Alyx asked him.

"I'll make do," he replied with another small smile.

"Good," she said with an approving nod. "We think the emissary and his pet golem were protecting the broodmothers. With any luck this will all be over soon."

"I hope so, Commander. I hope so." _For more reasons then you know, _he silently added.

Twice Nate had found himself at death's door, and in the span of just a few short hours at that. Both times he could only think of one thing…that he would die before ever getting the chance to tell Alyx of his true feelings, or worse…never learn whether she might share them. He had been determined to give her space and time to consider, but the fresh reminder of his mortality made him realize that they might not _have _much time. _This will all be over soon…_Her last words echoed back in his head, oddly reaffirming his opinion. He would have to talk to her, the sooner the better.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Falling" by Staind; "Hearing Damage" by Thom Yorke; and "A Family Affair" by Hans Zimmer (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest OST)._


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32 – Sticks and Stones**

Nate wanted to kiss the ground the moment they returned to the surface. Instead he threw his head back and breathed in deeply of the fresh night air. The view of the stars glistening in the heavens above had never been more breathtaking as it was this night. Even the gnarled, dead trees of the Knotwood Hills were a welcome sight after the suffocating atmosphere of Kal'Hirol. He didn't know if it was the beauty of the night or his all-too recent brush with death, but for the first time in a long time he felt alive, _truly_ alive.

_It was done. _

The broodmothers lay dead; their remains nothing more than ash in the filthy, stinking pit they had found them in. Alyx insisted they burn the corpses and Nate could hardly blame her. The broodmothers had been corpulent, deformed monstrosities made worse by the knowledge that they were once women. The very thought that Alyx, Sigrun or even Velanna could be turned into one of those _things_ was beyond considering. As it was he was fairly certain he would have nightmares for days.

The relief amongst his comrades was palpable as they silently made camp for the night. Their journey into the Deep Roads had taken its toll on each of them in its own way, and now that they had accomplished what they came for they could finally get some well-deserved rest.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Nate asked Alyx as she settled in by the fire instead of crawling into her tent like the others.

Alyx blinked up at him blankly at first, her brow furrowing in concentration as her sleep-deprived mind tried to understand his question.

"Sigrun doesn't have a tent so I offered to share mine until she can get one of her own. Figured I might as well take first watch while I'm up."

"_I'll _take first watch," he replied gently but forcefully.

"But, I—"

"Lex," he said softly, leaning down so that he was eye to eye with her. "You can barely keep your eyes open. _Please_ consider your own health for once and get some rest. You can use my tent. I'll wake you up when it's time for next watch."

"But aren't you tired?" she asked weakly.

"Not in the slightest." In truth he was exhausted and his shoulder was beginning to ache, but if one of them was to have a proper night's rest it should be her. "Don't make me declare you unfit for duty," he added in mock reproach, a half-smile tilting up one side of his mouth. Alyx chuckled lightly, mirth dancing within her cerulean eyes.

"Very well, but know that I do so under duress," she replied teasingly.

"Objection noted," he said with a chuckle of his own as he helped her up.

Nate clasped her lightly beneath her arms as she swayed on her feet, his heart skipping a beat when her hands came up to steady herself on his chest. Though he still wore his torn and bloody armor, he swore he could feel the warmth of her touch through the thick leather.

"Thanks," she murmured as she quickly pulled out of his grasp, her cheeks flooding with color as she looked down in embarrassment. "Good night," she whispered before turning to flee into his tent.

He stood staring after her for long minute, unsure of what to make of her strange behavior. For a moment there he thought…he shook his head. It didn't really matter _what_ he thought. Like most men, he was beyond understanding the inner-workings of any woman's mind let alone Alyx's, and would be foolish indeed to make assumptions. With a sigh he sat beside the fire and prayed for time to past swiftly.

Nate hadn't truly planned on waking her for the next watch. If anyone needed a good night's sleep it was the Commander, and yet it didn't surprise him in the least when she appeared to relieve him. The look on her face clearly said that there would be no debate on the subject, nor did he really have the energy to argue with her. It was with a measure of relief that he headed to his tent, already half asleep as he collapsed onto his bedroll. The moment his head hit the pillow he was enveloped by her warm, clean scent. Nate groaned. No matter how tired he was, there would be no sleep for him this night.

* * *

They broke camp early the next morning and began to make their way back to Vigil's Keep. There Sigrun would take her Joining and soon after they would set out again for the Blackmarsh.

Nate was hardly surprised that Alyx had offered Sigrun a position amongst them. She had proven herself a skilled fighter and had little other choice other than to 'disappear into the Deep Roads unmourned and forgotten,' as the perky dwarf so succinctly put it. Nate smiled to himself as he remembered the conversation she and the Commander had before they'd returned to the surface. Sigrun would make an interesting addition to their numbers…given that the woman even survived the Joining.

When they stopped for the night Nate found himself scrubbing away at the blood still staining the entire left side of his armor. He didn't know why he bothered, the leather was beyond repair, but he didn't relish the idea of going without armor while they were still on the road. He would have to commission a new set while they were at the Vigil. Perhaps Wade could make him something of drake skin, or maybe even dragon's wing if he had enough coin…

"So…you and the commander?" Sigrun asked Nate as she plopped down beside him near the fire and pulled out a shiny red apple. She took a large bite out of the succulent fruit, noisily chewing as she waited for his response.

"Me and the commander _what_ precisely?" he replied evenly.

"_You _know," she said as she bumped her shoulder into his side and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Nate sighed, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"There is nothing going on between the two of us," he replied tersely.

"But you want there to be. Don't you even try to deny it! I see the way you look at her!"

Nate stared at Sigrun at this pronouncement. Was he really that obvious?

"How do you ever expect to win her over if you're going to sit over here and brood instead of whispering sweet nothings in her ear?"Sigrun asked him between mouthfuls of apple. "You're a nobleman. Flirting is supposed to be some sort of game to your kind, so go flirt!"

"_Ex_-nobleman, and I do not flirt," Nate growled.

"Grumpy, grumpy! No wonder she prefers the mage's company over yours. _He_ at least gets the idea."

Nate scowled at Sigrun's words. He glanced across the campfire to where Alyx and Anders were talking. Anders was sitting entirely too close to her, his fingers occasionally brushing her arm as he spoke. As he watched Alyx threw her head back and laughed; a throaty, seductive laugh that made his stomach muscles contract. He gritted his teeth as white-hot jealousy tore through his body.

"You're not really going to let that peacock steal her from right under your nose?"

"It's…complicated, Sigrun."

"Why? Because of the mage? Or because she's your commanding officer?"

"Why are you so interested to know?" Nate shot back.

"Because I like you?" she replied sheepishly. When Nate simply glared at her she threw up her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright! Oghren bet me fifty silver that Anders would be the one to win her heart…but I really do like you!"

"Is it just me or is gambling a national pastime to you dwarves?" Nate grumbled in exasperation.

"Noticed that did you?" Sigrun replied with a chuckle. "But seriously, Nathaniel, you can't expect her to take notice of you if you sit on the sidelines. Prove to her that you want her, and then drive her to distraction by making her wonder what she's missing. Works like a charm."

"No doubt, but I'm likely to go mad long before such a game comes to fruition. I never cared for such things at court, and my tolerance level has only diminished over the years. If I am to win her affections it will be in my own way," he said.

"You are just no fun at all," Sigrun pouted, but then a wicked gleam jumped into her eyes and before he could so much as blink she grabbed his arm and leaned into his side, giggling coquettishly as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"What on Thedas are you doing?" he hissed.

"Smile and laugh as if I just said the funniest thing you've ever heard."

"What?"

"I'm trying to help you big lout, just do it!"

Nate did as she asked, trying not to cringe at the sound of his own laugh. It sounded absurdly fake to his own ears.

"Just what are you about?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I'm trying to prove a point, and most successfully if I do say so myself. At the very least it got her attention," she replied.

Nate glanced across the fire and low and behold Alyx was staring at them, her expression an interesting mix between surprise and chagrin. He turned back to Sigrun and this time flashed her a genuine, toothy smile. The dwarf blinked in surprise before a slow, answering smile spread across her face.

"See? That wasn't so hard was it? You're welcome by the way," Sigrun said as she detached herself and bounced to her feet.

Nate shook his head in silent amusement as he turned his attention back to the armor in his lap. Perhaps Sigrun had a point after all.

"Oh, and Nate?" Sigrun called as she glanced back over her shoulder at him. "You should smile more often. It suits you."

He flashed her one last grin of appreciation before she turned to leave. No doubt about it, things were definitely bound to be interesting with Sigrun around.

* * *

The rest of the return journey passed without incident. Sigrun survived her Joining (to Alyx's relief) and before they knew it they were back on the road. Alyx found herself highly curious about their destination. She knew little about the Blackmarsh beyond the idle gossip that could be heard in any tavern across the Arling. It was said that the marsh had once been a thriving community but had since been deserted (though no one knew why). It was also rumored to be haunted. Yet it wasn't the strange tales that surrounded the secluded area that drove her to keep them moving, but the guilt of having left one of their own to fend for themselves.

It was her fault.

Kristoff had already been gone for a fortnight when Varel first told her of his disappearance, and it had been many weeks since then. With no word from the missing warden and no evidence as to his whereabouts, Alyx thought it unlikely they would find him alive if they found him at all. If only she'd chosen to go after him from the first…but there was little they could do about it now but hope for the best.

Sigrun was proving to be a welcome addition to their ranks. Her cheerful attitude and dry wit was like a breath of fresh air in comparison to the tempered animosity of the past couple of weeks. Alyx found that the woman had an insatiable curiosity about anything and everything to do with the surface. Her constant stream of questions kept her on her toes and, more importantly, kept her too busy to fall back into the holding pattern she'd found herself in.

Which reminded her…she still hadn't decided what she was to do about Anders and Nathaniel. Although they'd given her the space and time she sorely needed, she knew that it wouldn't last forever. Even now she could see that they grew anxious, and it was only a matter of time before one or both of them would begin to press her for a decision.

She wasn't ready.

She'd barely begun to admit to herself the secret yearnings of her heart. How could she possibly share it with them? Her nerves were too brittle, her heart still too full of pain and loss to face the ramifications of her desires. Then there was the guilt. But above everything else it was sheer, bloody terror that kept her from following her heart. Fear of the future, fear of rejection, fear of losing either one of them in the face of her own selfish needs.

The old Alyx would have taken what she wanted without thought or care of such things. She would have laughed at the absurdity of it all and then teased both men into a frenzy of lust, stealing a kiss here or there or possibly a stolen moment of passion before sending them both on their merry ways. It had been a game she'd played before, in misspent days of her youth.

When she'd come into the full blossom of womanhood she quickly found she had a natural passion far exceeding that which was typical for young women of her age and breeding. This, paired with enticing features and the voice of a siren, made her outrageously popular amongst the young men both at court and in her father's service. She'd thrilled at the sensual power she held over those poor besotted fools with a simple look or a few well-placed words. When she grew bored with her suitors or one became too attached she would cut them loose, but always in a way that would never lead to believe that they'd been used. And she _had_ used them, out of some ill-conceived notion that she had an empty, unfulfilled existence. What a spoiled, selfish thing she'd been!

She might have done the same to Alistair had he not been what he was. Alyx swore that even had he lived to be a hundred he would _still_ have an aura of boyish innocence about him. Even after they'd been sleeping together for months she could still make him blush at the mere hint of sex. The memory made her smile. How ironic that the only man who'd ever been able to match her in passion had been a virgin before she'd seduced him to her bed…or rather _he_ seduced _her_ if she recalled correctly. The thought made her smile even wider.

"Uh, Commander?" Oghren called. "Don't know what yer grinnin' about, but I think yer scarin' the kids," he said as he gestured at Anders and Nathaniel with a nod of his head. Both men scowled at Oghren, causing Alyx to laugh.

"Just remembering, Oghren. Nothing to be concerned about," she replied, her voice warmed with amusement.

"Must be some memory," the dwarf mumbled.

_You have no idea, _she thought with a shake of her head.

Though they still had a few hours of sun left Alyx decided they would stop for the night as the tree line broke and she spotted a nicely situated glade. Before long their tents were set up and Alyx was enjoying the relative quiet as she leaned back against a mossy stone and closed her eyes. She sighed in contentment as she soaked up the warmth of the sun playing across her skin and listened to the soothing sound of rushing water from a nearby stream. Anders and Velanna had gone off to look for firewood and Sigrun and Nathaniel had gone to see if they could snare a rabbit for the evening meal, leaving her and Oghren to watch over the camp.

She could hear Oghren grumbling under his breath as he sat across from her and lit his long-necked pipe.

"What's on your mind Oghren?" she said with a sigh. She _knew_ she wasn't lucky enough to have more than a moment's peace. Oghren snorted as he stared off into space.

"Bein' in Kal'Hirol…got me to thinkin' about Branka," he said after awhile. "Look, Falc, I know she's gone. I know it. But sometimes I…ah, sod it."

"But what about Felsi?"

"She left me. Took the nugget too."

"I'm sorry, Oghren," she replied softly, not quite sure what else she could say. Oghren was not a man to be coddled…not that she thought he deserved it. After all, he left his wife and newborn without so much letting her know where he was going or what he was about. Had he been _her_ husband she would have left him too.

"Can't say as I blame her," Oghren grumbled as he stroked his beard. "But she knew what she was gettin' into when she shacked up with me. All I've ever been good at is killin'. I can't play house like she wants me to, not after Branka. But the nugget…aww, damn! Listen to me whimperin' like a box of wet kittens. "

"There's no reason why you can't still have a relationship with your child, Oghren. He deserves to know his father."

Oghren grunted. She knew better than to think she'd get any more out of him than that, but she could see a new gleam in his eyes. Perhaps there was still hope for him yet.

"Speaking of wet kittens, Falc …when are'ye gonna' come to yer senses and bed down with one of them lads?

Alyx groaned.

"I am _no_t discussing this Oghren."

"Aww, come on!"

" "

"I'm jest worried about ye is all. As amusin' as it is te see those two hot-heads rip each other a new one, it makes me sodding cranky te see what it's doin' to _you. _I don't do cranky well."

"As we all know," Alyx murmured irritably.

"Look, I know how much things have changed for ye, but ye used to laugh at this sort'a thing."

"It's one thing to laugh at a couple of drunken louts I hardly know make fools out of themselves for my attention, and quite another when—"

"—When yer heart's invested?" he finished for her. "And it _is_ lass…isn't it?" he added gently. Alyx shifted uncomfortably. Gentle from Oghren was disturbing.

"I…" she began, swallowing hard as she struggled to find the words and looking away in embarrassment when none would come. Why was it so difficult to talk about this with him? "I have a duty…both to them and to Fereldan—"

"Te hell with yer sodding duty woman! The darkspawn don't care who yer sleepin' with, and if those boys can't take a little heartache then they're not worth my spit!"

"You're missing the point, Oghren."

"Then enlighten me, _Commander." _

Alyx opened her mouth, but then Anders and Velanna appeared with the wood and she had no choice but to swallow her retort. By the time they got a fire going Nate and Sigrun had returned with a brace of rabbits already skinned and cleaned for cooking.

Alyx found herself forgetting her troubles as she joined in the boisterous conversation over a delicious rabbit stew Anders had thrown together. For as different as all of them were from each other, there was never a lack of conversation for long.

She was surprised to find that their time in camp was beginning to feel a lot like it had during the blight, only with different faces and different worries. If she closed her eyes, however, she could begin to imagine that she was back in that time and place. Alistair would likely have his head in her lap, chatting away as she ran her fingers through his hair. Wynne would be sitting across from them, working on fresh poultices as she shared bits of wisdom with anyone who would listen. Zev would be flashing her lascivious glances across the fire as he sharpened his blades, and Leli would be humming to herself as she tuned her lute…

"Alright, that's it! On your feet Howe!" Anders growled, abruptly breaking into Alyx's memories. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as Anders circled the fire to tower over Nate, red-faced in anger.

"You've got to be kidding me," Nate muttered, but he stood nonetheless. "Do you have a death wish mage?"

"The only _wish_ I have right now is to see you flat on your arrogant arse," he said as he balled his hands into fists. "Let's go Howe. No weapons, no magic. Just you and me, mano y mano."

Nate rolled his eyes and began to turn away when Anders threw the first punch. Nate easily dodged it, his eyes snapping with intent as he came back up in a defensive stance.

"Where'd you learn to fist fight?" Nate asked as they circled each other wearily.

"You don't grow up the way I did without learning how to defend yourself," Anders replied.

"I only ask because you fight like a girl," Nate said as he flashed Anders a toothy grin.

Anders growled and shoved him hard in the chest. Eyes snapping in challenge, Nate shoved Anders back. A second later they were at each other's throats and soon after rolling on the ground like a couple of brawling schoolboys. Alyx arched one fine eyebrow as she watched the two of them kick and shove at each other, then shrugged and went back to her meal. At least they were moving _away_ from the camp.

"What's the matter mage? Can't stand the competition?" Nate asked calmly as he gained the upper hand.

"You really are a self-righteous wanker, you know that?" Anders gasped as he took another swing as him.

"Better a self-righteous wanker than a fast-talking man-whore," Nate retorted.

"You think you know me, Howe? You know _nothing_ about me!"

"I know you're an idiot," Nate replied in the arrogant, clipped tone that always drove Anders insane.

"A typical nobleman's response," Anders said with a snort. "There's not an original thought amongst the lot of you, is there?"

Nate cocked an eyebrow at him before he glanced about and quickly found a large, rotting piece of wood. Before Anders could move out of the way Nate swung the log across his legs, making him tumble onto his back like a turtle. The air whooshed out of his lungs as he hit the ground.

"I don't know, I thought that was rather original," Nate said as he tossed the stick aside.

"That was a dirty trick," Anders said as he fumbled to his feet.

"If you want to play fair you have to set rules."

"_Rules?_ There are rules to this sort of thing? I thought the whole point was to beat each other to a bloody pulp."

"If you insist," Nate replied with an unfriendly smile just before his hand shot out and connected with Anders' nose.

"Aren't you going to stop this?" Velanna hissed into Alyx's ear.

"Aww, let the lads blow off some steam. They've been leadin' up to it fer weeks," Oghren interjected, obviously amused by the tussle.

"Why should I?" Alyx agreed.

"But…aren't you afraid they're going to _kill_ each other?" Velanna asked in shock.

"Hardly," Alyx replied with a soft snort. "They'll give it up once they wear each other out, either that or one of them gets a good blow in…what?" she asked when Velanna stared at her like she'd grown another head. "It's not like I haven't ever seen a brawl or two in my time. I _do_ have a brother you know_._"

Velanna stared at her in disbelief, her lips thinning in disgust as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Meanwhile Anders and Nathaniel had taken the fight clear across to the other side of the glade. Alyx could barely make out more than the outline of their figures against the glare of the sun kicking up off the surface of the stream at their backs.

"Tell me the truth, Anders. Is this really about Alyx or is it more about your pride?" Nate asked as they circled each other.

Anders opened his mouth to retort, but instead he plastered a look of fear on his face and pointed behind his opponent.

"Look out!" he cried. When Nathaniel turned to look Anders sucker punched him. Nate went down on one knee and glared at Anders as the mage began to laugh. "I can't believe you fell for that! That's the oldest trick in the book. Who's a tosser now?"

Nate stood slowly, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he took a step then two in Anders' direction, but he refused to move or even flinch. Anders didn't know what he was planning to do, but he refused to show the panic that was steadily building in his chest as Nate leaned down to look him dead in the eye.

"You still fight like a girl," he rasped.

Anders lunged at him and they both went tumbling to the ground.

"If none of you are going to stop this I _will,"_ Velnna cried as she jumped to her feet.

Alyx's eyebrow went up as the woman stormed across the camp. Ander and Nate had found their footing again and were currently trying to choke the life out of each other. Without a word of warning Velanna's hands shot out and shoved them both hard in the shoulder. Both men flailed their arms in search of balance for a long moment before they lost the battle and toppled into the stream with a splash.

Alyx, Oghren and Sigrun burst out laughing as the two men sputtered to the surface looking very much like a pair of drowned rats. Alyx laughed even harder as she watched Anders shoot Velanna a murderous glare and Nate slap the surface of the water in indignation. It was just about the funniest thing she'd ever seen. She was laughing so hard that tears sprung to her eyes and her stomach ached, but it was worth it. For just this moment, in this glade amongst these people, she was Alyx again…the _old _Alyx; and although she knew it wouldn't last, she would have the memory of it forever.

* * *

"Wonderful, just bloody wonderful," Anders muttered as he sloshed his way to the shore. "That was my last set of clean robes," he added as he flopped onto the grassy knoll.

Nate ignored him as he walked past without so much as a word. Anders could still hear the others chuckling as he began to work at his boots. The soaked leather suctioned to his foot, making it ridiculously difficult to get off. He stopped and wiped his nose with the back of his hand and scowled when blood came away with the water.

"Bloody perfect," he ground out as he slapped the ground in frustration. He took a deep breath and casted a quick healing spell, sighing with relief as he felt his broken nose realign. He supposed he should have left it the way it was after the way he acted, but it was too late now.

Anders blew out a long breath and sat back. He knew he had behaved badly, but he hadn't been able to help himself. He couldn't even remember what Nate had said to set him off, but beneath it all he knew it was simple jealousy and fear that drove him to act out. Nate was threat, more so than the man could ever know, and it scared the hell out of him.

Anders didn't have many skills, but there had always been two topics he'd always excelled in: magic and women. Both came naturally to him and both gave him a great deal of pleasure. He'd never been turned down by a woman he wanted (well, except that one time…but he didn't talk about that time) and he certainly hadn't ever had to compete for a woman's affections…until now. Ironic that it was only when it mattered, and Howe was proving to be a formidable opponent indeed. Not by his actions (for the man had been a bloody saint around Falcon lately, doing little more than staring at her when she wasn't looking) but by who and what he was.

The man reminded him of a cobra; lethal power and strength coiled deep within a cool, measured façade; laying in wait for the poor bastard thick enough to disturb it, and then striking with terrifying speed and grace. He supposed that's what made him so brilliant both on and off the field. One never knew what to expect from him, and it was getting dreadfully tiresome. The question was what was he to do about it?

"Here," Nate said as he dropped a clean tunic and leather leggings in Anders' lap. "That should suffice until your robes dry, and for the love of the Maker remember to bring provisions with you next time."

Anders looked from the garments in his lap to Nate's stormy expression in surprise. He wanted to throw the clothes in the smug man's face, but he knew better than that. If he remained in his wet robes for much longer he'd catch his death and then where would he be? He muttered a thanks and went back to pulling off his boots as Nate peeled off his own wet tunic and turned to place it over a nearby shrub to dry. Anders looked up just in time to get a good look at the long, welted scars that criss-crossed over the entire expanse of the other man's back.

"Andraste's tits! That had to hurt," Anders gasped before he could think better of it. Nate stiffened in response to his words. "What happened?" Anders asked cautiously.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Nate growled before pulling a fresh tunic over his head, quickly covering the evidence.

_Just as well, _Anders thought. He'd seen a lot of injuries in his time and something like that, well…it was more a matter of _who_ was responsible rather than _what. _The thought was discomfiting. He opened his mouth to speak but no words would come. What did one say in the face of such brutalization? He turned back to the task of pulling off his boots. His mind desperately searched for something to say to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"You had a lousy healer," he finally said. "Any decent harrowed mage should be able to heal something like that without leaving scars."

"I wasn't _allowed_ a healer," Nate replied through clenched teeth.

_That_ surprised him. But why? Could they not afford one or was he forbidden out of punishment? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but in Nate's current mood he would likely be taking his life into his own hands. Anders eyed the other man speculatively. He knew that Nate hadn't exactly lived the typical life of a nobleman and yet…yet he still assumed that he'd lived a life of privilege. Apparently he was wrong.

"Do me a favor, Anders. Don't mention this to the others, especially not to Alyx."

"But why?" he asked in surprise. "She's bound to notice eventually," _Especially if you plan to bed her, _Anders added silently, wincing at the thought.

"I…I'd rather not explain unless it becomes necessary. It is a memory I dislike to think of let alone share," Nate replied eventually.

Anders nodded. _That _he certainly could understand.

They grew quiet again as Anders finally struggled out of his boots and peeled his wet robes away from his clammy skin. The soft breeze that had felt so good before sent a chill straight through his system. He quickly pulled on the breeches, scowling as he noted they were entirely too large for him. Then again, Nate _was_ a few inches taller and likely had at least twenty pounds of muscle mass on him…Anders stiffened in sudden realization. Nate could have very easily finished their fight before it even begun. So why hadn't he? Which reminded him of something else…

"Nate?"

"Hmm?"

"I never properly thanked you…for saving my life. In Kal'Hirol."

"There's no need—"

"There _is_ a need. I was overtaxed and foolishly trying to play hero when I should have fallen back. Had it not been for you I would have been paste beneath that inferno golem's hand."

"Unlikely, but…you're welcome."

"Why did you save me?" he asked before he could think better of it.

"Why?"

Anders nodded.

"Do you honestly think I want you dead, Anders?" Nate asked. "I don't. We might desire the same woman and I might very well find you annoying some of the time…well, most of the time if I'm to be honest…but you are still my brother. You know as well as I that this warden thing is a life sentence. No matter what Alyx decides, we're in this together until one or both of us goes to our Calling…or gets killed, which is a more likely outcome."

"I—yes, I suppose you're right," Anders replied, a small grin crossing his face. "And I suppose I should apologize for attacking you."

"Don't worry about it," Nate replied with a shrug and a smile. "After all, we made her laugh."

"Yeah…that we did," Anders murmured, a slow smile crossing his face as Nate's words sunk in. "That we did. Well, come on then!" he said as he jumped to his feet.

"Aren't you going to put that on?" Nate asked as he gestured to the tunic in his hand.

"I'd like to dry out by the fire first," Anders replied with a shrug,

Nate scowled but didn't comment. A slow, wicked grin spread across Anders' face. He might not be a man of the sword but he certainly could still make an impression on the ladies. _Finally_ he found something that Howe couldn't, or rather wouldn't, ever do himself.

When they walked back into camp, Anders soaked in the appraising glances of the trio of women sitting by the fire. He especially made sure Alyx got a good, long look at his naked chest and was awarded with an appreciative stare that set his senses aflame. Anders smiled to himself, feeling ten times better about himself then he had just a few minutes ago.

Yep. He still had it.

* * *

_**Muse Tunes for this chapter:**__ "Under the Stars" by David Arnold (Dawn Treader OST); "Better Together" by Jack Johnson; "Kayla" by Harry Gregson-Williams (X-Men Origins OST); and last but most certainly not least "Little John and the Band in the Forest" by Michael Kamen (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves OST)…this song is what inspired the fight scene. _


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33 – Across the Veil**

They could all sense the moment they officially entered the Blackmarsh. It was almost as if they had crossed an invisible line, one that separated the marsh from the rest of the world in some unknown, profound way. The sky darkened, giving the impression of night though it was barely midday, and an eerie fog had settled in around them, soaking their clothes in a light mist.

Alyx shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her body. How could anyone have ever lived here? This was a desolate place, like something out of one of her more vivid childhood nightmares. It was no wonder the darkspawn had overrun it.

"My people say this place used to be beautiful, lush…until some unnatural perversion occurred," Velanna said barely above a whisper.

"I've heard much of the same," Nate agreed. "My father used to tell me stories of the Blackmarsh. He said evil magic killed everyone here. This was just before the rebellion…a great mystery at the time."

"What evil magic could have caused this?" Alyx asked.

"They never found out what happened here. Once the monsters appeared the marsh was abandoned."

"Monsters? W-what sort of monsters?" Anders stuttered.

"It's hard to be sure. There are a lot of different accounts, most from those who were too frightened to really know what they saw. I used to dream of coming to the Blackmarsh and setting things right," Nate replied, his eyes going soft and distant as a sad smile twitched up one side of his mouth. "Little boy dreams."

"Who knows? You might just get a shot at that dream after all," Alyx said as she squeezed his arm meaningfully.

He smiled at her as their eyes connected and for a moment she was whisked away to the days of her childhood, when Nate and Fergus would play knights and dragons. Of course both boys wanted to be the hero so they would often force Tomas or herself to be the dragon (Deli would never agree to be anything other than the damsel in distress, which always suited Alyx fine). She found herself missing those innocent days, when monsters were nothing but a figment of their overactive imaginations and at the end of the day, they would all disappear.

A distant mournful howl pierced the silence, abruptly breaking into Alyx's musings. Anders nearly jumped out of his skin beside her at the sound.

"Hold me," he said as he latched onto Alyx's arm.

"What's the matter sparkle-fingers? Afraid of the big bad wolf?" Oghren asked.

"Not wolves…_werew_olves," Alyx said as her eyes went wide in fear.

She pointed at a large, black figure hunched over the carcass of some poor, misfortunate animal just a stone's throw from where they were standing. No sooner had she spoke than the werewolf whipped its head around, its red, beady eyes glowing bright in the darkness as it growled low in its throat. It unfolded its hulking form until it was standing at its full height, its fur bristling across its massive shoulders as it curled back its lips to reveal a line of razor sharp teeth stained with blood. It let out a long, terrifying howl before it snarled and charged them with astonishing speed.

Alyx heard something metallic whip by her ear a second before Sigrun's axe sunk into the wherewolf's throat. It gurgled and stumbled back several steps as a fountain of blood spouted from its severed jugular, and then dropped to the ground with a soft thud.

"Oh, nicely played," Anders said appreciatively.

"Well someone had to do it," Sigrun muttered as she approached the werewolf to retrieve her weapon. It was still twitching when she pulled her axe free and wiped the blood away.

"Strange," Alyx murmured as she studied the beast. "This werewolf is nothing like the ones we ran across in the Brecilian Forest. It's…tainted."

"Is there anything you haven't seen before Commander?" Anders asked teasingly.

"Griffons," she replied.

"Well of course you haven't, they're _extinct." _

"One can still hope, right?" she said as she flashed him a brief smile. "But in all seriousness, if we needed any proof that the darkspawn are here, this would be it."

"Wonderful. Just what I wanted to hear," Anders drawled. "Let's find them and get the hell out of here. This place is way too creepy."

"Agreed," Alyx murmured as she signaled for them to move on.

They easily found the village ruins, nestled on a thin finger of land overlooking the Amaranthine Ocean. Alyx imagined that it had been a quaint port village at one time, but now there was little left but the burnt out shells of a handful of buildings and the tall walls surrounding a dilapidated estate. Who, she wondered, had lived _there?_ Nate had said the villagers disappeared before the rebellion. Did an Orlesian overlord live in the opulent manor? Or was it some misfortunate Fereldan nobleman living under the thumb of the usurping king?

"It's a picturesque little place, isn't it? Aside from being ruined and haunted," Anders said, a customary goofy grin spreading his lips.

"Right. Looks like no one's home though, huh? Hehe," Oghren added as he laughed at his own joke.

"Commander," Nate called. He was staring at something in the road, but she couldn't see what it was from this angle. She closed the distance between them and gasped when she saw the corpse of a genlock lying at his feet. That it was there was no surprise, but that it was fresh _was._ "Couldn't have been killed more than a day or two ago," he added without looking up. "Do you think Kristoff…?"

"Perhaps. No real way to know for sure," she replied as she glanced around for some clue that their errant brother had been here.

"Tracks lead off that way," Nate added as he pointed eastward up a darkened, muddy path that skirted the village proper.

They followed the path until they came to a fork in the road. To the right the path continued up a small incline and to the left…

"What on Thedas…?" Alyx whispered, her eyes widening in surprise.

The way appeared to be blocked by a peculiar green mist that undulated with a strange, other-worldly energy. Every hair stood up on the back of her neck as they approached the mist for closer inspection.

"Ooh, pretty," Sigrun said as she reached a hand out towards the mist.

"Wait, don't touch that—!" Anders cried, but it was too late. The moment her fingers touched the mist Sigrun was thrown back into a row of bushes.

"Are you alright?" Alyx called as she and Anders ran to help her out of the foliage.

"Wow, what a trip!" she chirped as her head popped out of the bushes. She accepted Anders' hand as she climbed out, brushing her armor free of leaves and twigs once she was clear. "What _was_ that?"

"_That _is a tear in the veil. The spirit realm lies very close to us here," Velanna replied, shooting Sigrun an annoyed look. "Perhaps in the future you should use more caution, hmm? Unless you are so desperate to die."

"Already dead…remember?" Sigrun replied with a shrug.

Velanna scowled and crossed her arms as she turned her attention back to the tear.

"Powerful magic would've had to been used to create this. I could sense the veil was weak here, but never did I think it was quite this bad," Velanna continued.

"What do you suppose did this?" Alyx asked.

"A formidable mage…or a demon."

"Neither choice is good," Anders grumbled.

"Then let us hope that they are no longer here," Velanna snapped. "Are we not here to find this Kristoff? There is nothing more we can do here, we might as well move on."

Alyx arched an eyebrow at Velanna but didn't comment. She learned long ago not to take the elfin woman's mood swings personally. It was simply a part of her personality and no amount of kindness or compassion would ever change that. She sighed and signaled them to keep moving.

Her hopes lifted when they found Kristoff's camp just around the bend and then plummeted again when she realized it had been untouched for some time. There was no sign of the man beyond a few personal belongings left beside his bedroll, but at least they could confirm that he'd been here.

They continued up the winding path, occasionally having to change course as they came across more tears in the veil. They ran into a couple more werewolves, but they had yet to see any darkspawn. Alyx could feel them, but couldn't place their location. The very fact put her on edge.

"Commander, look there," Sigrun said as she pointed to something in the road.

It was a body.

"Is he…?" Alyx asked as Anders bent to check the man's pulse.

"He's dead," Anders said as his face contorted in disgust. "Definitely dead."

When Alyx leaned over to get a better look she immediately pulled back and covered her nose. She forced herself to look again if only to confirm that this was Kristoff. The man's set of heavy plate armor was unmarked but he did have a sword in his possession with the grey warden coat of arms stamped on the pommel. That was enough evidence for her.

"He doesn't look to have been dead for more than a few days," Anders said as he straightened. "Makes you wonder what he's been doing out here all this time without so much as a syllable sent back to the Vigil. What do you suppose he was up to?"

"His journal said that he was investigating the darkspawn presence here…but I agree that something seems off. I wonder…"she began, but she never got a chance to finish her thought.

An all-too familiar guttural laugh came from out of the shadows a moment before a hurlock stalked towards them, a pair of childer grubs following close behind it. On a second glance she realized that this was no ordinary hurlock. Its armor was ornate, almost flashy as far as the darkspawn were concerned, and it had the intelligent, milky eyes she'd come to recognize in the more advanced breeds.

"The mother told it to me that if he was lured to this place, and slain, that in time you would come…and the mother, she was right. The mother is always right," it said in its strange, raspy voice as it shot her a malicious smile.

"It was a trap, and we are fools for falling into it," Velanna hissed behind her.

"Who is the Mother?" Alyx asked the darkspawn. _I can't believe I'm actually talking to this…thing, _she added to herself.

"The Mother is she that sent me, she that wished you to come. To here, this place. I…here before you…is the First, and I am bringing to you a message…"

Alyx couldn't quite remember what happened next, but there was a brief flash of light…followed by more sinister laughter from the one that called himself the First…and then there was the strange sensation of being pulled under just before everything went to black…

* * *

Alyx woke slowly, groaning as she rolled onto her back. Whatever the First had done to them, it had left her feeling groggy and disoriented. Her eyes snapped open as she remembered what transpired and was relieved to see the others waking around her.

"Where are we?" Amders groaned from beside her as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"That is a very good question," Alyx murmured.

They appeared to be in the same place they'd been when the darkspawn had found them...sort of. It was the same surroundings only different somehow, and not just because the sun was out and high in the sky. She didn't feel right…_this_ didn't feel right. She just couldn't put her finger on it. What was this? She didn't even notice the First's presence until it began to bellow.

"No! We have come to the fade as well. It cannot be!" it cried in despair. Alyx's eyes widened at the darkspawn's words.

_The fade!_ _No, no, no, no, NO!_ _We can't be in the fade! _Her mind screamed.

"Looks like someone was considered expendable," Anders murmured beside her.

"I am the First! I am not being considered expendable," the darkspawn seethed in fury. If Alyx didn't know any better she would say the creature was offended by Anders' words. "Both the grey wardens and the mother shall be learning this. I will be leaving you to the children. I will be finding my own path back into the world…back to the Mother!" it added before loping off, leaving its pets behind for the wardens to deal with.

Apparently the First didn't have a great deal of faith in their abilities if it thought a few giant grubs were going to finish them off. _Typical, _Alyx snorted as they disposed of the children with very little effort.

"We have to find a way to get back through the veil," she said as they gathered into a small circle. "We might be alive and aware here but in the real world our bodies are vulnerable. Anything could happen to them and we would be powerless to defend ourselves."

"Well that is a disturbing thought," Anders murmured with a theatrical shiver.

"She's right," Velanna interjected. "We must find a way back, before it is too late."

"But how?" Sigrun asked.

"That's the rub, isn't it?" Nate replied with a small smile.

"Let's take a look around. Perhaps the answer will provide itself," Alyx said as she straightened and dusted off her legs.

The others nodded in agreement and followed her down the dirt path. Alyx couldn't help but notice that this reality was a mirror-image of their own. Would they find a fade version of the village as well? She wondered. There was only one way to find out.

Unsurprisingly, they ran across a few of the typical undesirables of the fade. Alyx had faced enough shades and demons during the blight to know the fastest and easiest way to battle each variety. It was a talent she was hoping not to ever have to use again, especially after her last run-in, but it proved to be useful nonetheless. She quickly realized that the desire demons they ran across were protecting something unusual.

"What _is_ that?" she asked as they took a closer look at the chest the demons had encircled.

"It's a spell," Velanna replied. "A powerful spell at that. I think this is what's causing the tears, or at least one of them. If we destroy it we might be able to repair the damage done…at least on this end."

"And on the other end?" Alyx asked.

"The tear will still exist, but in another form."

"What do you mean 'another form?'"

"I'm not quite sure, but if we repair the tear here we may be able to close it altogether when we get back to the mortal realm."

"Then do what you must," Alyx replied. "And keep your eyes peeled for the other tears." They ended up finding three more, all of which were being protected by more desire demons.

The entire group gasped when they turned the last corner and the village came into view. It was as Alyx imagined it had once been in the mortal world: a bustling hamlet on the Amaranthine coast. The buildings were not only whole but obviously lived in and in good repair. Ships bobbed proudly at the sturdy, wood docks and smoke curled from the chimneys. She could hear the sounds of voices and livestock mixed in with the gentle lapping of the tide. The scene vaguely reminded her of Redcliffe.

"The village still exists, but only beyond the veil," Velanna said.

"So we're in a dream of a forgotten place? Wow. That's profiound," Sigrun added in fascination.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Alyx murmured as she rubbed her chin in thought. "Do you suppose the villagers were brought here like we were?"

"Perhaps in a similar fashion, but somehow I don't think the darkspawn were responsible," Anders said.

"Then what?" Sigrun asked.

"Blood magic," Velanna replied. She and Anders shot each other an uncomfortable look. For as unconventional as both mages were she knew that neither would ever consider going down that particular road. Blood magic was bad news, but they all knew it was the likeliest of causes. One question still remained…who was responsible?

They continued forward, approaching the village with renewed caution. They passed a girl sitting by the shore, murmuring nonsensically to herself (or to some unseen person, Alyx wasn't quite sure), but other than that the village remained quiet and still. Strangely the gates were closed fast to the outside world. It seemed that if they wanted to enter the village they would have to find another way.

They circled the outskirts until they came to a small graveyard where a young woman was bent over an old, crumbling headstone. She started when they approached and quickly turned to face them.

"You…you're not spirits like everyone else. How did you get here?" the woman asked, fear and curiosity warring within a pair of large, innocent eyes.

"I could ask the same question," Alyx replied wearily. Something was off about this girl, but she just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"This is where my grandfather's ashes are buried. I come to visit them often," the woman explained. "He was the last person to stay in the Blackmarsh. Once he passed, there was nobody left in the village who remembered."

"Who remembered? Remembered what?" Anders asked.

"Remembered what happened to the village, of course," the woman chided before her expression went soft and dreamy. "The marsh was full of people once. Then that evil woman came and changed everything."

"What woman?" Alyx asked.

"The Baroness, she…oh no!" the woman cried as she pointed behind them. "Quick! Come hide in the crypt!" she added before turning and entering the heavily shadowed door behind her.

Alyx turned around and gasped in horror. A pair of skeletal arms popped out of the crumbling earth, followed by a skull that smiled up at them maliciously as it heaved the rest of its body from out of the ground. This was followed by several more skeletons, each growling in anger as they, too, dug themselves free.

_"Shit. _Into the crypt," Alyx breathed, not wasting any more time as she ran through the open doorway, flinging the heavy oaken door shut behind them.

It was dark…_very_ dark. She waited for her eyes to adjust but they never did. Alyx could hear her own breath hitch with panic as she begun to feel the weight of the air press in around her, reminding her that they were underground.

"Anders?" she said, her voice wavering in fear.

"Say no more," he replied a moment before a bright light shot out from his staff.

Alyx shrieked as an enchanted skeleton lunged at her with a menacing growl. Oghren's axe came down on its head, and a second later it was nothing but a pile of bones at her feet. She fell back against the wall, breathing heavily as she tried to calm her screaming nerves. She _hated _the fade!

"Ugh, I _hate _the fade," Anders mumbled in disgust, unknowingly echoing Alyx's own thoughts. "Nothing is as it should be here. I doubt that _girl_ was even a girl."

"Well if she isn't then she should hope we don't run into her again…otherwise she'll be in little non-girl bits when I'm done with her," Alyx growled as she shook off the last remnants terror.

"Be still my heart," Anders murmured in appreciation. "I love it when you're all rough in tumble."

Alyx rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile.

They continued to walk through the winding underground tunnels, and were unsurprisingly attacked by a never-ending sea of corpses. By the time they reached the other end of the crypt Alyx was fit to spit nails. That the woman (who was obviously _not_ a woman by the unnatural glow of her eyes) was waiting for them at the exit only served to feed her temper.

"And so you came…fell into my little trap," the girl-demon said with a malicious smile.

"Told you so," Anders murmured.

"Not again! You have a knack for stumbling into traps, don't you?" Velanna hissed.

Alyx shot her a look of warning before she turned to scowl at the creature before them.

"Such wonderful creatures you mortals are. So full of yearnings, so full of hunger," the demon said as it eyed her eagerly. It reached out to run a finger over her collarbone and Alyx knocked its hand away in disgust.

"Do you truly think you can defeat us?" she asked as she narrowed her eyes at the demon.

"Hmm, you do outnumber me now, it's true. Clearly you mortals are not frail," it said, eyeing them in consideration. "Very well. Let the Baroness have you. I shall feed on whatever remains."

And with that the demon disappeared, its evil cackle still echoing through the crypt long after it was gone.

"Creepy," Sigrun whispered.

"I hate the fade," Ander repeated forlornly.

"Come on then," Alyx said, ignoring them both. "There's another doorway over here. Let us see where it leads."

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light once they were back on the surface, but when they did her eyebrows shot up in surprise. The crypt had led them inside the confines of the village walls. She could see now why they hadn't really ran across anyone besides demons before this...the villagers were gathered in front of the closed iron gates just outside of the sprawling mansion she'd seen while still in the real world. Only instead of a charred, crumbling building the estate was in perfect repair, its stone walls gleaming in the sunlight.

As they approached the mob she could hear them yelling in anger, some of them shaking their fists at the gates; demanding entry, demanding blood. At the front of the crowd was a spirit that stuck out from the rest. He wore gleaming armor of heavy silverite plate, a sword and shield strapped to his back. His voice was clear and piercing and easily heard above the rest.

"The mansion will not protect you, fiend! Come out and face your crime!" the spirit shouted as they drew closer. He turned when he noticed their presence, his eyes gleaming bright beneath his helmet. "And who comes now? More minions of the Baroness? Or yet more helpless souls she has tormented?"

"Do I look like a helpless soul?" Alyx asked with an amused half-smile.

"No, that you do not," the spirit replied. "I am Justice. I have watched this place and seethed at the wrongs visited on these poor folk, and now I seek to aid them."

"What wrongs?" Alyx asked.

"We lived in a village in the Blackmarsh and the baroness ruled over us," a woman nearby answered. "That…was so long ago, it seems like a dream we once had…"

"She took our children! Used their blood for her evil doings!" another villager cried in fury.

"We finally rose up against her, and this is what she did to us. I can't even imagine what happened to our families," the first villager continued.

"The village is overgrown and long deserted," Alyx replied softly.

"Has it been so long? How many years have we been held here?" the woman said, her voice shaking and distraught.

"Take heart good woman. Justice will see you avenged, and freed," the spirit said as he placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "Will you help us stranger? If this wrong is to be undone, we will need your aid."

"This spirit knows the fade. If we help him, he might help us in turn," Nate whispered in her ear.

"This baroness…she is a blood mage? From the real world?" Alyx asked the spirit.

"From the world of mortals, yes, as are all these people," he replied. "She is powerful, as are her minions, but you seem an able sort. Your aid would be most welcome."

"Then we would be happy to help," Alyx said.

"They just said she was an evil, powerful witch! Do you really want to antagonize her?" Anders hissed in her ear.

"We could defeat her and make her use her magic to help us get back across the veil," Alyx said softly so that only her companions could hear.

"Hmm, now there's a thought…all right. You've convinced me," Anders said sheepishly.

"I admit there is a small measure of wisdom to this plan," Velanna added, eyeing Alyx in mild approval.

"My intention is to storm the gate. Are you ready?" Justice asked.

Alyx nodded, drawing her weapon in preparation as Justice turned to the crowd.

"Good people!" he cried. "We take the battle directly to the witch! For too long have her crimes gone unpunished. Now is the time to reclaim your freedom!"

The villagers screamed in approval as they rushed the gates. It took some time, but they were eventually able to break through. The baroness herself stood at the balcony overlooking the courtyard below, a disapproving scowl crossing her features as she glared down at the interloping villagers.

She was beautiful woman, with raven hair and dark eyes, but she had a sour look about her…almost as if she spent most of her life sucking on lemons. Her nose was arrogantly turned up in the air, and if that wasn't enough to tell Alyx what sort of a woman she was, the small crown perched on top of her head certainly would. She'd seen the sort time and again at court, the difference being that the women at court were easily bested whereas the woman before her was a powerful blood mage.

"My, my. All that shouting outside and now you've finally decided to barge in? Without even a proper invitation," the baroness said in a grating Orlesian accent.

"Foul sorceress! You will release these poor folk and submit yourself to Justice!" the spirit cried valiantly.

"Justice? Is that what you are calling it? What of _their_ punishment, burning my home to the ground and with me in it?" the baroness spat.

"Because you were stealing our children! Using their blood to feed your vanity," one of the villagers cried.

"As was my due!" the baroness seethed, her eyes glittering with arrogance and anger. "You lived on _my_ land, _I_…your rightful ruler! Your blood was mine, just as your lives are now!"

"Their lives are not yours any longer," Alyx called in quiet determination.

The Baroness turned her attention to her and a shiver ran down Alyx's spine. She could feel the evil coming off the woman in waves.

"What is this? The pathetic fools have managed to recruit yet more sympathizers?" the woman said softly.

"We are no longer alone, Baroness! Your reign ends here!" Justice cried.

"As it happens, I am no longer alone either," the woman said with a wicked half-smile.

Alyx gasped as she saw the First step from out of the shadows to join the Baroness at the balcony. _Of course he would align himself with her, _she seethed to herself.

"My path back across the veil lies in victory over you and your new allies. Then the Mother will pay for her treachery!" the First rasped.

"You should choose your pets more carefully," Alyx told the Baroness.

"Instead I should have chosen you, mortal?" the woman said with a conceited snort.

"We must be ending this now! The grey wardens, they are more dangerous than you know!" the First cried.

"Oh?" the Baroness said, an eyebrow arched in disbelief.

_The woman looks almost bored, _Alyx thought.

"As you wish, creature. Slay them and you shall have the reward you requested," the Baroness continued, waving her hand in dismissal.

The courtyard suddenly exploded with action as a handful of ash wraiths appeared amongst the villagers. They screamed in fright but valiantly fought despite their fear, all the while the Baroness watched from her perch, her arms crossed haughtily in front of her chest. When the ash wraiths were defeated and the First was injured and bleeding on the ground, the Baroness lost her patience.

"Why haven't you defeated them?" she spat.

"They are too much!" the First cried. "It must be sending me back through the veil, before it is too late!"

"Oh, I will sunder the veil all right," the Baroness hissed, eyes flashing with fury. "I'll send them back; I'll send them _all_ back. But _you_…your life is going to provide the power!"

The Baroness raised her arms and began to chant in a language she didn't recognize. Alyx shielded her eyes as a strong wind swept through the courtyard, temporarily blinding her. She walked forward one slow step at a time, reaching out her free hand until it wrapped around something warm and solid. It was Anders' arm.

"What is she doing?" she yelled so that she could be heard over the wind.

"No bloody clue!" Anders yelled back. "Just hold on tight!"

Alyx did as he said, grinding her teeth as she tried to hold up against the current.

The last thing she heard was the First screaming in agony, and then the world turned black once again.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34 – Many Happy Returns**

_They were back. _

Alyx took a quick inventory of her body and breathed a sigh of relief as she established she had returned to real world whole and unharmed. She had never felt so grateful to be in her own skin again…well, except for that last incident in the fade…and the time before that now that she thought about it. Apparently that whole thing about only mages being able to consciously traverse the fade didn't apply to her.

Her companions slowly began to wake around her, groaning and yawning as they regained consciousness. She glanced over to see Anders still curled into a ball on his side, looking peaceful and innocent as soft snores escaped his lips. Alyx's smile widened.

"Wake up," she called softly as she shook his arm.

Anders' brows drew together as he mumbled something that sounded a lot like "give me another bloody ten minutes," before he began snoring again. Alyx tried again, only to have her hand swatted away.

"Wake up you imbecile!" Nate growled as he kicked Anders in the leg.

The mage shot straight up, his head turning in wild circles as he searched for the reason for his rude awakening. When his gaze landed on Nathaniel he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Oh, it's _you,"_ he grumbled.

"Thank you ever so much for joining us, sleeping beauty. You're welcome by the way…unless you _wanted_ us to leave you napping on the damp, hard ground, in which case I would be happy to oblige," Nate replied lightly.

Alyx rolled her eyes, but she secretly smiled. Anders and Nate's bickering had lost some of its edge over the past few days. She didn't know what had transpired between them, but it seemed that they were able to work past their differences. She didn't know how long it would last, but for the present she could be grateful for the return of their light-hearted banter.

"Uh, Commander…" Sigrun called. "We may have a problem."

"What? What are you talking about?" Alyx asked as she turned to face the dwarf.

"Kristoff…"she said, pointing over Alyx's shoulder, her eyes going wide in shock.

Alyx turned just in time to see Kristoff's corpse fumble to its feet. She drew her weapon, but fell back in surprise when it began to speak.

"No, this cannot be happening!" the corpse rasped, a look of utter disgust passing over its sunken face. "A mortal body…and in the mortal world. It cannot be!"

"The spirit of Justice?" Alyx gasped as she sheathed her weapon. "How did you get here?"

"The witch sundered the veil in her haste. _All_ of us were drawn through," the spirit growled.

"All of us…you mean she is here as well?" Anders asked.

Justice nodded.

"Can you not feel it? The Baroness is nearby."

"How is this possible? Isn't she dead, just as all the others were?" Alyx asked.

"You misunderstand. The Baroness, she is not a mortal as you are, or as were the villagers she kept trapped. There was such a mortal once but now…_there_ is a demon of pride."

"Wouldn't she have to possess a body? Like…you seemed to have done?" Alyx asked, faltering over her last words. She didn't want to offend this…well, whatever he was, after all.

"I do not know why I am in this body. It was not my choice, I assure you," the spirit of Justice snapped. "The veil is sundered, and the tears must be closed lest they continue to spill demons out into this world."

"Great…and how do you suggest we do that?" Anders asked.

"I can alter your weapons for a time, allowing them to drive back the Fade's magic…but if we are to deal with the Baroness, we must move swiftly," he said as he struck a fist into the palm of his hand to punctuate his words.

"Right, let's get going then," Alyx said with a gesture of her head.

Closing the tears ended up being a great deal more difficult than Alyx had anticipated. Not only did they have to fight back the magic that created each portal, but the spirits that had already begun to take advantage of the free pass into the mortal realm. By the time they'd closed the last tear, they were all exhausted.

"Come. We must still face the Baroness," Justice called as he pressed on towards the village.

"Give us a moment to catch our breath, spirit," Alyx said as she sat heavily on a moss-covered log.

"I…do not understand," Justice answered as he turned to shoot her a confused look. "What do you mean by catching your breath? And once caught, what does one do with it? From what I understand, holding on to ones breath is detrimental to a mortal body."

"I meant that we need to rest," Alyx replied.

"Oh…I still do not understand," Justice said.

Alyx sighed.

"There are several basic elements a living, mortal body needs in order to function," Anders supplied. "Food, water and rest are amongst these essentials…then of course if you ask any red-blooded man another basic need would be se—"

Alyx cleared her throat and shook her head at Anders.

"Right, never mind," he said with a sheepish smile and a blush.

"You cannot face the Baroness alone, and we cannot possibly hope to stop her until we've regained our strength. Does that make sense?" Alyx asked him.

"I believe it is beginning to," Justice said carefully. "But make haste regaining your strength. I can sense the Baroness nearby, and she will not stay here for long."

"Fine. Are we ready?" Alyx snapped.

The others nodded, though she could see that they were not as rested as she would like them to be. A tick of annoyance flared up in her chest. By the time they found the Baroness standing outside the gates of her ruined estate, Alyx was in a temper.

"So this is the world of the mortals?" the woman said without turning around to look at them. "How very dull it seems, so immutable and unchanging."

"Then perhaps you should never have left the fade, demon," Alyx spat.

The baroness turned and eyed Alyx arrogantly.

"I had no idea I could enter the mortal world this way. Had I known—ah, but I am here now, yes? And it seems that I was not the only one to be drawn here. How tiresome," she continued as she glared at Justice.

"We will have an end to this, witch," Justice said as he raised his sword.

The Baroness let out a long, evil laugh that made Alyx's teeth grind together painfully. She had just about enough of this evil bitch.

"You cannot stop me, none of you can! Soon I will be the queen this world deserves, and you—"

Without a word Alyx drew her blades and lopped off the Baronesses head. It rolled across the ground to stop at Justice's feet, her lifeless body dropping a second later with a soft thud.

"It's always the same. I'm going to take over the world…yada, yada, yada…you will rue the day you ever thought to cross me, blah, blah, blah. Just once I wish they would spare me the details!" Alyx spat as she wiped her blades clean and placed them back in their holsters.

"That was awesome!" Sigrun crowed.

"And so it is done. I must admit I did not think that it would be so easy to dispose of her," Justice said, perplexed.

"Perhaps it wouldn't have been had I given her a chance to show her true colors, but really, why should I?" Alyx replied.

"I…cannot answer that mortal," Justice said.

"It was a rhetorical question, spirit," Anders replied.

"I do not understand," Justice said after a moment to consider the mage's words.

"It's alright, Justice. No one expects you to," Alyx said with a sigh. "What I'd like to know is what you plan to do now that the Baroness has been defeated."

"I…am at a loss," Justice replied. "I know nothing of this world and have only a few memories of this Kristoff's to draw from. Perhaps you could advise me?"

"You know nothing of this world? Nothing at all?" Alyx asked in surprise.

"The demons seek out the dreamers, those mortals that come to the fade, and they draw sustenance from their memories. My kind has no such compulsion. We feel sorry for you mortals, trapped as you are in this dismal place. But now I am trapped as well…alas."

"Hey, most of us 'mortals' happen to like this world," Anders snapped. "Don't knock it 'till you know it."

"Have I offended?" Justice asked, looking to Alyx for help.

"Don't pay any attention to him," she said in exasperation. "Just…are you sure there is no way for you to return to the fade?"

"None that I know of," Justice said forlornly. "Please, mortal…I do not wish to die. You are of this world, surely you can give me some purpose, some goal until I am able to find a way back through the veil."

"Hmmm," Alyx began, eyeing him thoughtfully. "The body you inhabit was a man named Kristoff. He was a grey warden, as are we. If you wish you could join us."

"You mean continue this mortal's mission?" Justice asked, his head tilting to the side in thought. "Grey Wardens fight the darkspawn do they not? And it _was_ a darkspawn who murdered this mortal most ignobly…and the ones that commanded it yet live. To avenge his death…yes, that would be a purpose. Very well. I will join your cause, if you will allow it."

"Are you sure that it wise, Commander? I mean, he's a walking, talking _corpse_, for Maker's sake!" Anders hissed in her ear.

"Sparkles here has a point," Oghren said. "And I didn't want te say anything, but he is smellin' kinda ripe," he added in a stage whisper.

"Oh, that's just brilliant coming from you, my smelly little friend," Anders replied sarcastically.

"He has nowhere else to go, and we could hardly do worse than to have the spirit of Justice on our side," Nate added, causing both Anders and Oghren to glare at him.

"I agree," she whispered back.

"Is there something wrong?" Justice asked, wringing his hands in a very human-like fashion.

"Not at all. You are welcome to join us…umm, what should we call you exactly?"

"I have no name, only a virtue to which I aspire. If I am to need a name, then use that. I am Justice."

"Very well, Justice. Welcome to the Order of the Grey."


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35 - Taking the Plunge**

"How long do you suppose we were in the fade?" Anders asked as he absently scratched his chin and frowned. Either he was being paranoid or there was another day or two's worth of stubble that hadn't been there before.

"It's hard to say. Time has no meaning in the fade, right?"" Falcon replied, her voice straining as she worked at one of the wooden stakes pinning Kristoff's tent to the ground. They had decided to go back to the dead warden's camp in order to collect his possessions to be brought back to the Vigil. Anders thought it a little creepy, but then again he supposed the gear _did_ belong to Justice (albeit in a morbid, convoluted way).

"Precisely, Commander. Which means we could have been gone for mere hours or for days for all we know," Velanna replied from her perch on a nearby moss-covered stone.

_Is anyone surprised that the elfin witch refuses to help…anyone? _Anders thought as he shot Velanna a scathing glance. If Velanna saw the look, she chose to ignore it.

"This 'time' you speak of…I've heard other mortals talk of such things, but I've never been able to grasp its meaning," Justice said distractedly. He was sifting through Kristoff's personal affects, picking them up one by one and studying them with an intensity generally reserved to children. It made Anders shudder.

"All's I know is that I'm _starving,"_ he said as his stomach growled in agreement.

"You're _always_ hungry," Falcon said with a soft chuckle.

"This coming from the woman who can devour an entire side of beef by herself," he retorted jokingly.

She blushed prettily at his teasing, causing a pool of desire to well up inside of him which was swiftly (and unsurprisingly) followed by an answering ache in his heart. It had become familiar, that flutter beneath his breastbone that was as painful as it was exhilarating. For weeks he had refused to put a name to it, had even denied it as long as he could, but now…he couldn't ignore it, not any longer.

Anders crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby tree as he studied Falcon's familiar, delicate features. How many times had he caught himself reaching for her, only to pull back at the last minute? And how many times had he nearly blurted out the words he'd never given to any woman before? Oh, he had no doubt she knew that he wanted her (it's not like he'd been terribly secretive about it), but did she know just how deep those feelings went? He didn't think so, but it was hard to tell with Falcon. The woman was far too good at keeping her thoughts and emotions to herself, no matter how expressive her eyes were.

It was this _waiting_ that was killing him. He'd agreed to give her time to work things out but he had never been a patient man…less so now, knowing that even were he to survive the upcoming battles with the darkspawn, his time was finite. The more he thought about it the more he felt it was high time that he had a talk with her.

* * *

They left the Blackmarsh the moment the last of Kristoff's gear was stowed away for travel. Though the atmosphere had greatly improved since the veil was repaired and the Baroness slain, no one cared to remain any longer than necessary.

Anders wondered if the marsh would be inhabitable again now that its ghosts had been exorcised. It would likely take years before the Baroness's curse left the land completely…perhaps it never would. Yet it still felt like they'd accomplished a great fete by ridding the Blackmarsh of the witch that had started it all.

"Well I'll be a nug's uncle," Oghren gasped as they left the marsh, for the moment they crossed that invisible line again the mist lifted and the sun reappeared high and bright in a cloudless sky.

"Neat trick," Sigrun added as she twisted in her saddle to look back at the darkness behind them with her signature curiosity plain across her face.

"We had to have been in there for at least a full day. It was about this time of day when we first entered the marsh," Nate said as he looked up at the sun.

"Or not," Velanna interjected. "The entire marsh was under the Baroness's enchantment. 'Tis possible that many days have passed or no time at all. Who's to say?"

"We obviously won't know until we have an opportunity to ask after the date," Falcon replied. "In the meantime…there's a village not far from here. I thought we might see if there's an inn there."

"An inn…a _real_ inn? With beds and walls and—"

"—and booze! Now yer' talkin' woman!" Oghren crowed with an approving grunt.

"Yes, a real inn," Falcon replied, laughter lacing her voice. "I, for one, am in no mood to sleep on the cold, hard ground. Besides, you all deserve a hot meal and a good night's rest after what we've been through."

Anders was inwardly doing a jig at this news. The idea of having four solid walls and a door that locked set his mind to racing. _Oh, the possibilities! _The voice in his head crowed in delight, but it wasn't meant to be. There _was_ an inn; run by a kind, elderly couple that couldn't have been more pleased had the queen herself come to stay at their humble establishment. Unfortunately (despite their enthusiasm) there were only three rooms available, which of course meant they would all have to share. Anders shouldn't have been surprised to find himself rooming with Oghren, but he supposed it could be worse…he could be staying with Howe instead. Either way, the plans he'd already half-concocted were officially spoiled by this new development.

He was still determined to speak with Falcon at least, though the very idea of it made his stomach queasy. What if she turned him down? _But what if she doesn't?_ The voice in his head countered. _Since when were you one to play it safe? Get it together and go after her already! _

So when Falcon announced she was going to go check on Valkyrie after the evening meal he decided to follow her. He tried not to notice Oghren raising his tankard in a silent toast as he stood to leave, or the knowing glances the others threw in his direction (though admittedly Howe's scathing glare made him smile just a little). The earthy scent of hay and manure greeted him as he entered the stables. They were comforting in their familiarity, as odd as that might sound coming from a mage who had known little of horses before joining the wardens. But as Falcon herself was an avid rider he'd found himself spending a great deal of time in the Vigil's stables. He glanced down the narrow walkway but saw nothing beyond a few curious furry heads poking out of their stalls.

"Falcon?" he called.

"Here," was her muffled reply from the other end of the stables. He followed the sound of her voice until he was standing in front of Valkyrie's stall. The mare huffed softly in greeting, shaking her head as Falcon lovingly patted her speckled neck.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as she looked up at him.

"Yes—I mean no—I mean…can I talk to you?" he asked, hating the nervous hitch in his voice.

"Alright, shoot," she replied as she eyed him curiously.

"I was wondering if you've had a chance to consider…well, me. Us, that is."

"Oh," she replied, her eyebrows briefly shooting up in surprise before her lips thinned into a grim line. "Now is not the best time for this Anders."

"Why?" he asked, fear and annoyance suddenly gripping his heart in a vice.

"Beg pardon?"

"Why _not_ now?" he pressed. "We're in a relatively safe place with no urgent matters to attend to and for once, we're alone. I think now is the perfect time to talk about this."

"That's not exactly what I meant."

"Then pray tell, my _Lady_, what is it that you meant?" he asked, failing to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"There are still darkspawn to contend with, Anders. Until we are able to drive them back my duty demands my full attention. I could hardly consider personal matters when so much is at stake," she said.

"Yet you didn't seem to have a problem jumping your _Alistair_ at the first opportunity, did you? And that was in the middle of a blight," he retorted.

"That was different," she snapped.

"Why? Because you were so _desperately_ in love with him?" he sneered, letting the unspoken jibe sink in to the lingering silence that followed.

Falcon's face went completely white at his words.

"That isn't fair," she said barely above a whisper. "I was a different person then, and under vastly different circumstances. My responsibilities now are such that they supersede any importance I might have once placed on my personal feelings."

"And what of _my_ feelings. Do they not count?"

"Of course they do," she said, a look of hurt flashing across her face.

"Look, Falcon. You know as well as I do where this is going. Eventually we're going to have to face both the Architect and this 'Mother'…whatever _she_ is…and there is no guarantee that either of us will come out of this in one piece," he said as he gently cupped one side of her face in his hand. "I'd rather die knowing the truth than to live never knowing if we might have had something together."

"You're not going to die, Anders. Not if I can help it," she replied softly as she covered his hand with her own. "But I cannot ignore my responsibilities. Not for you, not for anyone. If you cannot understand that then you've yet to learn what it truly means to be a Grey Warden."

"That's nothing but a bull shit excuse and you know it!" he growled as he pulled his hand from out of her grasp and began to pace. "You hide behind your bloody responsibilities and I can't for the life of me figure out why! _Why?_ There is no reason for it!"

"I can't do this," she whispered hoarsely as she exited the stall and tried to pass him, but Anders grabbed her arm before she could escape.

"Just how long do you intend to draw this out, my dear? I'd like to think that I've been a patient man, but there is only so much I can take."

"_Please_ try to understand—"

"I'm trying to but you're making it a great deal more complicated than it needs to be," he snapped as he backed her up against the stall door. Falcon fidgeted nervously under his scrutiny, a look similar to that of a trapped animal flashing across her face.

"It is a simple yes or no. Do you want to be with me or not?" he demanded.

When she remained silent he let her go and took a step back. He counted to ten as he desperately tried to hold on to the last threads of his temper.

"Fine, that's just bloody perfect," he mumbled before turning to leave, but he turned back at the last second and pinned her with a look that would have made even the First-Enchanter flinch. "Are you really that desperate to punish yourself for Alistair's death? Or are you so afraid of what _might_ happen that you cannot bring yourself to take the risk? Well I'll have you know, _Commander_, that life is all about taking chances, and if you can't come to terms with that then you're not _half_ the woman I thought you were."

He knew he'd made a vast mistake the moment the words were out, but there was no taking them back now that they were said. Her eyes closed and her jaw worked as she obviously tried to find a response to his spiteful words. For a moment he thought she would simply walk away, but then she was there, standing beside him.

"I thought of all people, you would understand," she rasped, breaking his heart in two with her simple, pain-filled words. And then she was gone.

Anders slumped against the wall and sank slowly to the ground. _What the hell just happened? _The voice in his head screamed. _I blew it, that's what happened, _he told the voice morosely. He didn't have to go back over the conversation to know where it had all gone wrong. He'd let his insecurities about being rejected completely take over his common sense. Thus, he _completely_ overreacted when she was simply trying to tell him that she wasn't ready. _I thought of all people you would understand, _she had said. What had she meant by that? _Of course! _When he'd gone after her in the fade...he'd shared her emotions in a way that no one else ever had. He'd felt her heartbreak as if it were his own, and then like an idiot threw it back in her face. Anders groaned, only now realizing the enormity of his mistake. Unless he was mistaken, he pretty much just ruined any chance that he might have had with her.

"What have I done?" he whispered to himself before burying his face in his hands.

* * *

_***Muse Tunes:**__ "Camelot Lives" by Jerry Goldsmith (First Knight OST); "Trying to Relate" by George Fenton (Ever After OST); "Corynorhinus" by Hans Zimmer & James Newton Howard (Batman Begins OST); and "Are Those Bullet Holes?" by Ramin Djawadi (Iron Man OST). _


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36 – Murky Waters**

They left the inn early the next morning to the chagrin of three very hung-over wardens. Oghren, Sigrun and Anders looked as if they had been drinking well into the wee hours, but Alyx was in no mood to cater to their lack of judgment. In fact, it almost seemed as if she was determined to punish them for their poor behavior, though Nate knew better than to think that was truly the case. No, their Commander's sudden mood-swing was definitely a product of something else entirely.

He'd noticed her distraction almost immediately that morning and could only assume that it had something to do with whatever she and Anders had been up to the night before. Just thinking about it made his hackles rise, but the fact that the mage was likely still drunk and that Alyx had a storm cloud the size of Amaranthine hovering over her head made him think whatever had happened between them last night hadn't been good. Apart of him wanted to be thrilled by this unforeseen juncture, but he just couldn't bring himself to feel anything but concern for their Commander's obvious misery.

Alyx drove them hard, only stopping them when it was absolutely necessary. Her earlier stance that there was no rush to get back to the Vigil seemed to have been left in the dust of the Pilgrim Path along with her good humor. Now she was like a woman possessed. Nate was fairly certain that if it hadn't been for the horses she would have kept them traveling straight through the night without pause, though he couldn't argue with the results. When they finally did stop for the night it was within half a day's ride from the keep. Tomorrow they would be home.

_Home. _He never thought to ever consider the Vigil home again after, well…everything, but now it felt more welcoming than it ever had before. The keep had a new life to it, a sort of frenetic energy that had never been there in his father's tenure as Arl, but there was so much more to it than that. He had a real place there, and a purpose that not only kept him occupied but had genuine meaning, and it was all due to the one woman that had come to mean _everything_ to him. If only she could see that and accept it…accept _him._

No one dallied for very long once camp was set for the night. They ate quickly and silently (well, _mostly_ silently…Sigrun was not one to keep quiet for more than a few minutes at a time) and one by one each of his companions excused themselves for the night. Before long only Alyx, Justice and he remained. Nate watched her from across the fire under the cover of cautiously hooded eyes. _What is she thinking about?_ He wondered as he studied her expression intently. She had propped her back against a tree, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she stared into the fire, her gaze never wavering from the flickering flames. His heart ached at the strain that showed clearly in the depths of those haunting eyes. Surely there was something he could do to help? She didn't so much as blink as he circled the fire to crouch beside her.

"Lex," he called softly.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" she asked as she mentally shook herself free from her thoughts.

"Is everything alright? You seem a little distracted," he said.

Alyx sighed.

"I was just thinking about what our next course of action should be. I hate to admit it, but I'm at a loss," she replied heavily. "During the blight there was always something to be done; that next step that brought us ever closer to the archdemon, but now…I can't help but feel that I'm missing something, some vital piece of information that ties everything together and it worries me. I can't expect our enemy to simply come calling, nor would I want them to, but…I want an end to this, Nate."

"I think we can all agree to that," Nate replied. "I understand your concern, but you're not alone in this, Lex. I know as Commander you feel responsible for us, but we're a team. We'll get through this."

"Since when did you become such an optimist?" she asked, a half-smile twitching up one side of her mouth.

"Since I met you," he replied simply.

_Where did that come from? _He asked himself in surprise. He was only being honest, but it wasn't like him to just blurt out whatever was on his mind. Still, it pleased him when Alyx's cheeks flushed prettily at the compliment.

A sudden nervous energy flowed through Nate as he realized that they were essentially alone for the first time in weeks. He glanced briefly in Justice's direction to see the spirit/man standing just at the outskirts of the camp, staring up at the moon with his hands folded behind his back. He'd been standing like that for what seemed like hours and was unlikely to come back to the fireside any time soon. It was the perfect opportunity.

_It's now or never Howe, _he told himself as he took a deep, steadying breath.

"Look, I know this isn't exactly the best time for this, but I've been meaning to talk to you about what happened in the armory."

"There's no need—"

"There _is_ a need. Much was left unsaid that day, things I should have told you long before now. It certainly wasn't the way I wanted to tell you…to show you…Andraste knows you deserve more than that, but seeing you with Anders…Maker! You must think me a jealous fool! And perhaps I am," he said, an ironic smile briefly crossing his lips. "But I need you to know that there was more behind my actions than petty jealousy."

"Nate, I—" she began but he silenced her with a press of his fingertips to her lips.

"I've come to care for you, Lex, a great deal. I'm beginning to think I always have. Even when I distrusted you I was drawn to you despite myself, and I hated you all the more for it. But then I began to see your compassion and your strength of spirit; that wonderful fire that's always there beneath the surface," he continued as he brushed his knuckles lightly across her jaw. His heart began to pound as her eyes widened and he felt her breath warm across his skin as her lips parted in surprise. "I didn't dare hope that there could ever be anything between us, not after what my father did to you, but then when I kissed you I felt…I felt…_Maker,_ Lex. Tell me I'm not the only one. Tell me you felt _something."_

He could see the panic in her eyes as she struggled to find words. His gaze was drawn to her lips when she licked them nervously and just like that, he was a drowning man. Somehow his hands had found their way to her arms and his head was bending closer to hers. He couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to. He _needed _this as he needed his next breath. When his lips were within an inch of her own he felt her suddenly stiffen in his grasp. It was such a subtle movement and yet to him it was like a slap in the face. White hot anger shot through his veins, and for a few seconds he didn't dare move lest he do something he might later regret, but he knew it was no use. He was fighting a losing battle with his emotions.

"Damn it Alyx!" he growled angrily as he struck the tree behind her with the flat of his hand and shot up from the ground in the same movement. "If you don't want me then _say_ so! Just…don't keep me in this purgatory any longer. My heart can't take it," he rasped, disgusted by the crack in his voice that betrayed his emotions more than anything else.

He waited for her to say something, _anything, _but she simply sat there, eyes wide and pleading as she remained frozen in place. _Just say it! _he thought as she pinched her lips tightly together. It was almost as if she wanted to answer him but was forcing herself to remain silent. It only served to anger him further. Nate could feel his hands begin to shake as the silence continued to stretch. He quickly balled them into fists to stop their trembling before she could notice. He couldn't take this any longer. He had to get away.

"Nathaniel!"

The waver of emotion in her voice stopped him dead in his tracks, but he just couldn't turn back and see the rejection that was surely in her eyes. He'd told her he hadn't hoped…he _lied, _both to her and to himself_._ Hope had bubbled up inside of him unbidden, and now it was shattered along with his heart. He'd been wrong to ever think she would see him as anything other than what he was...the washed-up son of a monster.

"It's Anders isn't it?" he asked hoarsely.

Again silence, this time worse than the last.

"Go to him if that's what you want, but I'll be damned if I have to stand by and watch it."

He never saw Alyx wipe at her eyes before the unshed tears could fall from them, nor did he see her rise unsteadily to her feet and walk out of the camp, only to disappear into the foreboding darkness of the surrounding woods.

* * *

Alyx walked blindly through the forest for what seemed like hours. She didn't know where she was going or what she was doing; only that she had to get away. Luckily the moon was high and bright in the sky, clearly illuminating the path before her. Eventually she came to a clearing with a crystalline pool at its center. It was partially protected by a sheer rock face on the far side of its banks, which explained why the water was so utterly still despite the soft breeze that rustled her hair. She could see the moon reflected perfectly in its glassy surface, not unlike a mirror or a highly polished shield. Even as agitated as she was she could not help but admire the natural beauty of this place, however briefly.

She fell to her knees at the side of the lake and waited for the tears, but none would come despite the stinging of her eyes. _Isn't that just typical?_ She thought wryly. Here she'd been scolding herself for becoming something of a watering pot lately and now, when she needed to cry the most, she couldn't. It was just one more thing to add to her steadily growing list of personal grievances. _Or failures more like, _she silently added.

It had all happened so fast. First Anders and now Nathaniel…everything was falling apart and it was all her fault. The idea of neutrality had seemed like such a prudent plan; one that would allow her to come to terms with her feelings and at the same time, ensure that neither man would get hurt in the process. She hadn't expected them to confront her quite so soon, nor did she ever consider that they might think she was being selfish, even cruel by withholding her feelings. Her heart ached at the thought that she had wounded them far more this way than she ever would have had she just been honest with them from the beginning. A part of her had _wanted_ to tell them, but when the choice had been taken from her she'd simply frozen up. She knew a mere apology would not suffice to fix this, and it was more than likely she'd ruined her chances for happiness with the one she _did_ love, perhaps forever.

"It is not safe to be in these woods alone," a masculine voice pronounced behind her. Startled, Alyx whipped her head around but relaxed when she recognized Justice's decaying features.

"Justice! You frightened me," she gasped.

"I apologize. That was not my intent," he replied in his strangely efficient voice as he folded his arms behind his back.

"Was there something you needed?" she asked when he didn't elaborate further.

"I saw you leave camp alone and was…concerned. Are you ill, Commander?" Justice asked after a moment of hesitation.

"Only ill of heart," she murmured as she looked back over the water before he could see the pain in her eyes.

"Do you wish to discuss it? I am under the impression that mortals like such things."

"It's…complicated, Justice. I'm not sure you'll understand."

"Ah. Then it is to do with the mage and the thief wishing to mate with you?"

"Thief? Oh, you mean Nathaniel. Yes, but I wouldn't exactly have put it that way."

"Call it whatever you like, but your path should be clear. You must choose the one that you wish to share deeper relations with and dismiss the other's appeal. 'Tis the only just thing to do."

"It's not that simple."

"I do not understand," Justice replied.

"The human heart is complex. It cannot be qualified by sorting it into pretty little compartments and labeling it as 'just' or 'unjust.'"

"Justice is what I am, mortal. It is all that I know and embody," he snapped.

"I'm sorry, Justice. I'm not trying to trivialize what you are; I'm simply trying to explain that...there is no right or wrong to love, it just _is."_

"I…do not understand," Justice said again, looking mildly uncomfortable in his ignorance.

Alyx sighed.

"Is there nothing in Kristoff's memories that you can relate to? Any family or friends that he cared deeply for?" she asked him.

Justice cocked his head again, the look of discomfort growing as he considered her query.

"There is a woman that surfaces in his memories quite often. She is…was…very important to him. A word comes to mind…'wife' I think it was. To experience his feelings for her through his memories is…unsettling."

"It is for the rest of us as well," Alyx replied.

"And you seek it out despite this?"

"I think it is more fitting to say that we seek love out _for_ that very reason."

"I still do not understand, but I will trust your judgment in this," Justice replied. "Is there anything that can be done to alleviate your mind? Shall I speak to your suitors for you?"

"I appreciate the offer, but this is something that I must do myself."

"Very well," he said with an approving nod. "If you are ready, we should return to camp immediately."

"Give me a minute to collect myself…alone?" she asked softly.

"I will be waiting just there by the tree line should you need me," he replied with another curt nod before turning to walk back to the edge of the clearing.

Alyx took a deep, steadying breath as she stared at her reflection in the water. Her features were the same as they always were, but she couldn't help but be disgusted at what she saw in her expression. Gone was the wildly confident girl that she had been three years ago, and in her place was a frightened, shattered woman. How was it that Nate and Anders even wanted her when she was but a shadow of what she should be? What could they possibly see in her that was worth fighting over? Perhaps they would be better off if she turned them both away, though it pained her to even think about it. Growling under her breath Alyx slapped at the surface of the water, causing her reflection to ripple into nothing more than oblong shapes and muted colors.

And then a strange thing happened. At first she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her; that it was simply the moonlight playing over the surface, but soon she could see that something was gradually materializing in the water. She squinted and leaned forward to get a better look and then gasped when she saw what it was…a woman. Not a corpse, though that was her first reaction. A spirit perhaps? Alyx marveled at the way the woman's hair and clothing swirled around her in the water, intangible and yet so _real. _But what truly caught her attention was the look in the spirit's eyes. It was despair, and a yearning so potent that she could feel it down to her bones. The woman stretched her milky white arms out towards her, a desperate pleading in her eyes. She swore she could almost hear the spirit crying out to her for help. She was hypnotized by the plea, so beautiful and yet so heartbreaking. If only there was something she could do for her…

And then the voice began to change. It was as if the spirit was beckoning to her, beseeching her with her siren song. Soon she was joined by other spirits, men and women and even children, all reaching out to her, imploring her to join them. Alyx could feel the pull of their mournful melody. It was a like a soft lullaby, tugging at something deep inside of her. Here she would be understood and accepted. Here there would be no more fighting, no more pain, no more worries or fears to keep her up at night. Yes, here is where she belonged. Here she would remain.

Justice was leaning against a nearby tree but straightened as he saw Alyx climb to her feet, assuming that she was ready to leave. He was startled when she stepped purposefully into the water instead of turning to join him. There was only a moment's warning that something wasn't right before he sensed the subtle pull of magic from across the clearing. He only made it three steps before his feet were frozen to the ground where he stood. He could feel the spell work its way up his legs and knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he was completely paralyzed.

"Commander!" he shouted, surprised by the emotion in his voice.

Alyx looked back at him as if she heard his cry but her eyes were empty and unseeing. There could be no doubt now that the woman was enchanted and there was nothing he could do to save her. He watched as she walked deeper and deeper into the water until she disappeared completely beneath the surface. There was a sudden flash of bright light from the dark depths of the lake, followed by a bubble of water that sent waves across its expanse. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the lake and the clearing lay silent and still once again. Meanwhile Justice looked helplessly on from the prison of his mortal body, unable to move or even to call out for help. For the first time in his extensive memory, Justice felt fear.

* * *

"Wake up! Ooh, please wake up!" Sigrun begged as she pulled at Nate's arm.

"Go away Sigrun. I'm not on watch tonight," he grumbled before turning over on his side.

"Falcon's missing."

_That _woke him up.

"What? What do you mean she's _missing?" _he growled.

"Justice saw her leave camp alone. Said she looked upset so he followed her," Sigrun explained. "I'm worried, Nate. That was over an hour ago and they haven't returned."

_Upset? _Had their conversation affected her that much? Nate's heart began to pound.

"The others…do they know? Did anyone else see her leave?"

"I don't think so. Justice woke me just before he left, and I came to you first," Sigrun replied.

"Did you see which direction he went? Good," Nate said as Sigrun nodded affirmatively. "Wake Anders, fill him in. We'll need him if we're to have any hope of finding her."

Sigrun nodded and took off at a dead run, screaming Anders' name at the top of her lungs. Nate groaned. _Perhaps I should have told her to _discretely_ wake him, _Nate thought. He didn't want to rouse the entire camp if this turned out to be nothing, but when he walked out of his tent he saw that it was too late. Anders, Oghren and Sigrun were already arguing and Velanna stood to one side, silently seething.

"Like hell I'm gonna' stay behind you sparkle-fingered son-of-a-nug! This is _Falcon_ we're talking about!" Oghren bellowed as he shoved one plump finger into Anders' chest to punctuate his point.

"We can't _all_ go traipsing through the woods, dwarf. Someone needs to stay behind to watch the camp, and I say that someone should be you," Anders replied.

"For the love of the creators, _I'll_ stay behind," Velanna snapped haughtily. "Just stop your incessant caterwauling; you're giving me a headache."

"We're wasting time arguing about it. The Commander and Justice might be in trouble. We need to leave before it is too late," Sigrun butted in.

"I agree…though perhaps we shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet," Nate replied gently as he squeezed Sigrun's shoulder to show his support. The woman was chewing on her bottom lip and nervously wringing her hands. He had never seen her this worked up before.

_She really is worried about them, _Nate thought in surprise. It did nothing to alleviate the fear that gripped his heart in a vice. He silently prayed to the Maker that they had simply gotten lost or were having an engrossing conversation or _anything_ other than what his intuition was screaming at him. Even as he prayed he knew that he was fooling himself. Things were never that simple when Alyx was involved.

Tracking a cold trail in the middle of the woods at night was tedious even in the best of situations. Sigrun had only been able to give them a starting point, which was something at least, but not nearly enough. Truth of the matter was that Alyx and Justice could have gone anywhere once they reached the safety of the forest. Even Nate's carefully cultivated tracking skills were hard pressed, but he refused to turn back until Alyx was safe and sound.

They fanned out to cover a wider area and soon he could hear his companions calling out to Alyx and Justice and then back to each other if they found anything. He instinctively cringed, having been used to tracking solely by stealth, but he was quick to realize that they had little choice if they ever hoped to find them. He even joined in after awhile, but the wood remained unnervingly silent despite their efforts. After awhile Nate was beginning to worry that _they_ wouldn't even make it back to camp. The forest seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction with little in the form of landmarks to guide them. They could be walking in circles for hours at this rate.

"Over here!" Sigrun cried from somewhere ahead of him.

Nate's heart began to pound as he broke into a full sprint. He skidded to a halt as he cleared the tree line, nearly running Sigrun over despite his last second recovery. He opened his mouth to apologize but gasped instead when he realized what he was seeing. Standing in the middle of a moonlit clearing was Justice, frozen in place. One arm was outstretched, his mouth ajar as if he had been trying to call out to someone at the moment of his paralysis. It was a frightening look even for someone who was already dead and decaying.

"Is he…?" Sigrun began, not able to finish her sentence.

"He's not dead…or _dead_ dead as it were," Nate replied as he took a closer look at the man. Justice might be frozen in place but his eyes still tracked their every movement. He was definitely alive, but how…? There could only be one explanation for such unusual circumstances…_magic, _he growled to himself. It had to be. But if Justice was here, where was Alyx?

He could hear the sound of approaching footsteps just moments before Oghren and Anders came into view. Anders took one glance at Justice and muttered a spell that released the man from his arcane prison.

"My thanks, mage. That was most discomforting," Justice said as he rubbed at his arms in a very human-like fashion.

"I'll show you the definition of discomfort if you don't tell us where Falcon is," Anders threatened as he grabbed Justice by the front of his armor.

"Now, now sparkles. There's no need for violence...did I just say that?" Oghren asked as the rest of them stared at him in surprise. "I mean...pummel him until he talks...yeah."

"Let him go Anders," Nate said as he approached the two of them. For a second he thought that the mage would ignore him, but finally Anders did as he asked and even took a begrudging step back.

"Where is she?" he asked Justice softly. Nate's heart dropped into his toes as Justice's expression fell, and then stopped altogether at the spirit's next words.

"She's gone."

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Getting Therapy" by John Powell (Hancock OST); "The Kiss" by Christophe Beck (Elektra OST); "This Love" by Craig Armstrong (Cruel Intentions Soundtrack); "Drink of Despair" by Nicholas Hooper (Half-Blood Prince OST); "Kyra's Tape" by James Newton Howard (The Sixth Sense OST). _


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37 – Through the Looking Glass**

"_Gone?_ What do you mean gone, gone _how?"_ Anders snarled at Justice in red-faced fury.

Justice hung his head in shame.

"Into the lake," the spirit rasped as he gazed mournfully over the crystalline water.

The words were barely out of Justice's mouth before Anders and Nate were halfway across the clearing, ready to jump into the lake after their missing Commander.

"'Tis too late! You will not find her there," Justice called after them, effectively halting them both in their tracks. "The way is closed."

"What in Andraste's name are you talking about?" Nate growled in irritation.

"Can you not feel it?" Justice asked as he joined them by the side of the lake. "This place is enchanted by an ancient magic, one beyond my understanding or yours. I tried to stop her, but I could not overcome it any more than she. The strictures of your world…of the mortal body…cannot evade such potent power. Whatever is in that lake beckoned to her, and in her weakened state of mind she was easily ensorcelled by its call."

"You said 'the way is closed'…are you saying there is some sort of portal in the lake?" Anders asked in surprise.

"Are there such things in this world? You must guide me on such matters," Justice replied in clipped tones.

"Not that I ever heard of…not the sort that is found in the fade at any rate," Anders murmured. "Can you show us where she went in?"

Justice nodded and gestured for them to follow him. Anders raised his staff and muttered a spell that conjured an orb of light for them to see by. He held it high over their heads as the three men cautiously stepped into the water. It was surprisingly warm and so clear that Nate could see schools of small, silvery fish darting away from their ponderous steps. There was nothing unusual about the lake that he could see, but there was still a sense of something off about the atmosphere surrounding them. It gave him the willies.

"Here. This is where the Commander was standing just before she went under. Whether she went willingly or was taken, I cannot say," Justice announced as he stopped and pointed.

Anders lowered his staff until the light was nearly touching the water, allowing them a good view beneath the surface. As they expected, the ground dropped off abruptly into the deep, dark belly of the lake. There was no telling how far down it went let alone what secrets it may or may not hold.

"Take this," Anders said as he passed his staff to Nate and rolled up his sleeves.

"What are you doing?" Nate asked but was quickly shushed by the mage.

Anders' brow crumpled in concentration as he crouched in the water, closed his eyes and began to murmur. The hair on the back of Nate's neck stood up on end as magical energy began to crackle in the air. _What is he doing? _Nate's mind screamed as the water began to bubble around the mage. Anders raised his arms and then slammed them hard into the water. The moment his fists connected with earth the ground tremored beneath their feet and a shockwave rushed across the surface. Anders' eyes shot open, glowing unnaturally in the weak light.

"Anders?" Nate croaked as something large brushed against his leg and swam down into the depths of the lake. Anders ignored him as his eyes rapidly flicked back and forth…almost as if he was searching for something in the water that he could not possibly see…or could he?

"Hold the light closer to the water, would you?" Anders intoned.

Nate gaped but did as he asked, his mind running a hundred miles a minute as he watched the mage work.

"Nothing to see as of yet…wait. There is something…ruins, and…a mirror? No. It _can't_ be!" Anders gasped.

"What?" Justice and Nate asked at the same time.

Anders blinked and his eyes went back to normal as he stood and shook his hands free of residue.

"It's and eluvian," he said softly.

"An eluvi-what?" Nate asked.

"An eluvi_an_. They were once thought to be Tevinter in origin, but as it turns out, they're Elvish…relics of a time when the elves had an empire that rivaled the Imperium itself," Anders replied.

"And?" Justice prompted.

"According to ancient texts, the elves of Arlathan used the eluvians for long distance communication and possibly even travel."

"Our portals," Justice murmured.

"Maybe," Anders said. "The Tevinters attempted to recreate the system and failed. Over the years the mirrors were lost, destroyed or in some cases, corrupted. I've never heard of anyone actually finding one let alone having the knowledge to use it. If Falcon was indeed lured into the mirror, it would have been by something ancient and incredibly powerful."

"If no one has seen one of these eluvians, how is it that you know so much about them?" Nate asked, eyes narrowing at the mage.

"There are several texts about them in the Circle's library. Fascinating stuff if you can translate it…which of course I can't, but I sat next to a kid in primal that was a self-proclaimed linguist. Sodding know-it-all if you ask me, but he came in handy if you ever needed to learn something…unconventional," Anders replied.

"This mirror…what did it look like?" Nate asked, a queasy feeling beginning to churn in the pit of his stomach as he listened to Anders' words.

"It is a full size mirror, standing taller than any man and arched to a point at its head. This one is gilded, though I've seen sketches of eluvians set in immaculate carved sculptures, obviously Tevinter by the stonework. Probably why so many scholars mistook them as the work of the ancient magisters. Funny how that always seems to happen," Anders said with a scowl.

"I've seen one," Nathaniel rasped, swallowing hard pass the bile that had jumped into his throat. "It was in the Architect's laboratory."

"What? Are you certain?" Anders asked, perking up at this new information.

"Yes, quite sure," Nate replied gravely. He remembered seeing it, partially hidden in a small alcove behind a bookcase. He had thought he'd seen something moving in the shadows and quickly realized that it was only his reflection in the dusty, dirt-smudged surface of a full-length mirror. He had thought it strange at the time, that the Architect would keep such a thing, but he had also found it strange that a darkspawn could read let alone keep piles of tomes and hand-written journals.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" Anders asked haughtily.

"Because I thought it only a mirror," Nate snapped back as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Enough, the both of you," Justice growled. "Mage? Do you believe that this Architect has the means to use these mirrors of yours?"

"Well…he _is_ a powerful emissary…and has already proven to have knowledge of magic beyond the Circle, and possibly even beyond the magisters…"

"But what if we're wrong? What if he isn't responsible for this?" Nate asked.

"Eluvian's are exceedingly rare, Howe. If his is not the one we're looking for…there would be no way of knowing where else to look. This may be our only chance," Anders replied.

"Then let us not waste any more time," Nate said as he made his was back to the bank. "Maker willing, it won't be too late to help her."

* * *

They packed up and set off for the Wending Wood immediately, making it back onto the main road before day break. Lack of sleep and concern for their Commander made for an uncomfortable journey, worsened by the heavy humidity in the air that foretold bad weather. Indeed, Nate could already see black storm clouds rolling in from the east, but he could care less while Alyx was still missing.

He couldn't help but feel that this was all his fault. Had he not overreacted she would never have felt compelled to take solace in the wood, therefore she would never have been in the position to be taken in the first place. She might even be safe and sound at the Vigil by now. He knew with certainty that if she died, he would never be able to forgive himself. Not for this.

"This is my fault," Anders practically whispered beside him, startling Nate out of his silent diatribe. He turned and arched an eyebrow at him in question. Anders sighed and ran a hand through his messy golden locks. "The other night at the tavern…I…cornered her…demanded answers. We argued…I said some things I shouldn't have…"

"As did I," Nate said forlornly, surprising the mage as well as himself. "Let us concentrate on getting her back. We'll have time enough to lay blame when she's safe."

Anders nodded and for a moment Nate felt as if they were on common ground for once. It figured that it was mutual guilt that would bring a sense of kinship between them. Of course once this was all over they would likely go back to fighting, but at least for a time they would be working together. Alyx would have been proud.

The Wending Wood had changed little since their last visit. Remnants of the destroyed caravans were still scattered across the landscape, though anything of use had long since been picked over by looters. Even Velanna's camp still stood; just the same as it had been the day they'd left it all those weeks ago.

It wasn't difficult to find the ruins they were looking for, but the door they'd exited had since caved in, leaving them no choice but to pick their way back through the abandoned mine tunnels.

"Is it just me or does anyone else find it odd that we haven't run across any darkspawn yet?" Sigrun asked after they'd traveled some distance into the mines.

"We should have at least sensed them by now," Nate agreed with a frown. Something wasn't right here. He could feel it down to his bones, but he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was.

When they entered the Architect's laboratory they were shocked to see that it had been cleaned out. The books, the notes, the strange vials of blood…all of it had been taken, including the mirror they'd been looking for. Nate's heart plummeted at the sight.

"Now what?" Velanna snapped as she leaned against the door frame.

"Don't panic, just let me think…" Anders said as he paced the floor and rubbed his chin.

"Don't panic?" Oghren snapped. "We have no way to find her now!"

"I know that!" Anders snapped back.

"What was that?" Sigrun asked as she whirled around, daggers in hand.

Everyone went very still, ears straining to hear whatever it was that Sigrun had, but the ruins remained quiet. Suddenly a golden head popped around the corner, followed by a lithe, leather-clad body.

"Zevran! What are you doing here?" Nate cried in surprise.

"I could ask the same of you my broody friend, though I should hardly be surprised to find Grey Wardens in such a place," Zevran replied as he gave Nate a considering look that made him slightly uncomfortable. "But to answer your question, I returned to the Vigil about a week ago to find Falcon gone and this note left for me in the care of the Senechal," he continued, passing Nate a worn piece of vellum with Alyx's unmistakable script across it. He scanned the note and glanced up at the elf in surprise.

"She's charged you with finding the conspirator's?" he asked.

"Just so," Zevran replied with a wide grin. "Given my former profession and undeniable skill, I believe she felt that I was the most suitable man for the task. She even left Hector behind for my use, if I so wished his company."

It was only then that Nate noticed the mabari snuffling around in the dirt at Zevran's feet. His head popped up at the mention of his name and his stub of a tail wagged furiously as his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.

"That still doesn't explain your presence here," Anders said as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Ah, yes. I was making my way to Amaranthine to do some scouting when our furry friend here decided to go bounding off into the woods. I've long since learned that it is best to follow a mabari first and ask questions later. Their instincts are unparalleled. Little did I know that he would lead me on such a chase, and into such fine company as well…where is Falcon, by-the-by?"

"Taken," Nate replied. "We think the darkspawn are involved, thus the reason for our presence here."

"Then I am at your disposal, wardens, for as long as it takes to get her back," Zevran replied with a flowery bow that belied the fire that snapped in his eyes. Nate arched an eyebrow at him. Obviously the assassin wanted to find her just as badly as they did. It made him wonder just how close of friends the two of them really were.

Hector suddenly barked twice and then took off at a sprint down the hallway. The rest of them raced after him through the winding tunnels, occasionally losing sight of the dog in their flight, but then he would bark and they would be on track once again. Eventually Hector stopped at a heavy engraved doorway where he scratched at the ground and whined for entry. Nate stiffened as he realized where they were. This was the chamber where they had confronted the Architect all those weeks ago. That they were here again…was it fate or mere coincidence? He couldn't decide.

"Can you feel that?" Sigrun whispered.

"Darkspawn or warden?" Oghren asked as he reached for his axe.

"Alyx," Nate whispered. He knew what they were sensing, he could feel it beating steadily beneath his skin. It was weak, but it was enough to know it was her. He would recognize the call of her blood through a thousand darkspawn if necessary.

Nate barely touched the door before it squealed open on its ancient hinges. Were they expected? Or was the Architect really that arrogant? It mattered little, for as soon as the door swung open all of his thoughts evaporated at the horror of what he was seeing.

The chamber was empty beyond the mirror propped in the far corner and a small, familiar figure hunched over in the middle of the room. Her arms were manacled high above her head, not by any normal means but by magic that pulsed a sickly blue against her pale skin. She wore nothing but a stained and tattered shift that barely covered her delicate figure and her hair hung in limp, sweaty strands across her face. She'd been deliberately and brutally beaten, that much he could see from the cuts and bruises that ranged across the expanse of her arms. In fact, there wasn't an inch of skin that he could see that wasn't black and blue.

"Alyx!" he cried in fear and rage as his legs took on a life of their own, carrying him across the room.

He could hear something moving beside him but he was completely focused on the woman before him. All he wanted was for her to lift her head. He needed to look into her eyes and see that she was still alive, that there was still hope of saving her from whatever fate this monster had planned for her. Nate had nearly reached her side when he was suddenly and violently thrown back to the ground. His head cracked hard against the stone and then everything faded to black.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Hello Beastie" by Hans Zimmer (Dead Man's Chest OST); "Breath of Life" by Howard Shore (Two Towers OST); "Regret" by Brian Tyler (Battle: LA OST)._


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38 – Festering Wounds and Revelations**

Nate regained consciousness slowly. The moment he opened his eyes the world tilted on its axis, only to right itself again a second later. He shook his head, inwardly reeling as the world went in and out of focus and nausea pitched his stomach. He winced as pain shot up his arms to settle between his shoulder blades. His entire body ached in fact, making him wonder exactly how long he'd been kneeling on the cold stone floor with his arms tightly bound behind his back.

"You're awake. Thank the Ancestor's! I was beginning to worry," Sigrun's voice ghosted from out of the darkness.

Nate turned toward the sound and squinted into the shadows. He could barely make out Sigrun's face in the gloom but she was definitely there, sitting just a short distance away. She was bound just as he was; as they all were save for Hector, who was nowhere to be seen. At a glance he saw that he and his companions had been positioned in a semi-circle around Alyx's inert form. Apparently whatever their captor had planned for her, he wanted the rest of them to have front row seats for it…that is if she was still alive. _Maker, let her still be alive! _Nate silently prayed.

"How's your head? I'd heal you but I'm sort of tied up at the moment," Anders said from the opposite side of the room, shrugging his shoulders to emphasize the fact that he, too, was restrained.

"It's fine," Nate lied. He could feel the stickiness of the dried blood caked to the side of his face, and his right temple throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but he couldn't afford to let the pain take him. Not when he needed every ounce of focus he could muster. He distracted himself by testing the strength of his bonds, but his wrists wouldn't budge so much as an inch.

"Don't bother my friend. I've already tried," a heavily accented voice whispered nearby. It took him almost a full minute to recognize the Antivan's voice, but then he realized that it could only be Zevran speaking to him. "We're being held by magic. Unless your lock-picks are of a charmed variety, they would be useless against such defenses."

Which meant they were in a world of trouble if they didn't think of something soon.

Had this all been a trap? Nate wondered. He was beginning to think so. Even after everything they'd been through, he still hadn't believed the darkspawn to be intelligent enough to come up with such a complex scheme, but then again the Architect _was_ different from the others…and all the evidence pointed to him...

A soft groan escaped Alyx's lips and Nate's chest constricted in relief. She was _alive._

"Alyx!" he gasped. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that they were here and were going to get her out, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he couldn't form the words. Nate gasped as she lifted her head and he saw her face for the first time since they entered this place. The entire left side was black and blue, and an angry gash slashed across her forehead. Her right eye had swollen shut and her lips were painfully cracked, beading fresh blood as she parted them to talk.

"Shouldn't have…come after me," she rasped in a stilted, pain-filled voice. "This isn't…your fight. Now…we'll all...die."

"Isn't our fight? Are you insane woman? " Oghren barked just as Anders said, "Of _course_ we came after you!"

Nate licked his dried lips as he stared at Alyx in disbelief. This hopelessness was unlike her.

"You remember what I told you Lex?" he replied calmly. "We're a team. You and the rest of us…we swore an oath, and we will face whatever comes together."

He was surprised when her shoulders began to shake and a strange noise rattled up from deep in her chest. At first he thought she was crying, but then he realized she was actually laughing. A sort of panic seized him at the sound. Whatever the Architect had done to her had obviously cracked her mind.

"Not…darkspawn," she croaked.

There was a long pause of shock after this statement.

"Then who?" Anders asked in confusion.

Alyx whispered something he didn't quite catch, but Zevran and Oghren both gasped in surprise at her response.

"Flemeth? Did we not already kill her?" Zevran asked.

A wild, piercing cackle filled the room at the assassin's words, sending a chill skittering down Nate's spine. It was an evil sound, that laugh.

"Foolish boy," a low, husky voice said from out of the heavy shadows. "As if the likes of you could ever truly kill me."

Nate bit back a gasp of horror as a hunched figure shuffled into the weak light. The creature before him might once have been human, but was now nothing more than a twisted, decaying wraith with black, beady eyes that glittered from out of an angular, sunken face. Only a few tufts of scraggly hair remained atop of a balding head, and her gray-tinged skin had cracked and withered. She wore only the remains of a tattered dress that clearly revealed a grossly emaciated and distorted frame. Her long bony fingers, which might have once been elegant, sported talon-like nails that made her hands look like claws. To Nate she was like a childhood nightmare come alive, the epitome of everything he'd ever thought a witch of the wilds would be. He had to swallow back the bile that had lodged itself in his throat.

"Not what you were expecting, was it lad?" the witch said to Zevran, a malicious smile spreading her cracked lips into a sharp-toothed grin as she stopped in front of the assassin.

"What happened to you?" Zevran whispered in shock.

"Your friend happened," the woman spat, her smile melting into a scowl. "When she struck the killing blow I was forced to find a new host. Because of the blight I had but one choice…an old, lame Chasind woman left behind by her tribe. Had I known that she had warded herself against me, I might never have claimed her for myself. Now I am stuck in this putrid form, but not for long…oh no! Not for much longer."

"If it's vengeance you seek, then take it, but please…release my men. They had no part in this," Alyx rasped, her head lifting regally despite her weakness.

"Aren't we quick to jump to conclusions?" Flemeth said with a bark of laughter as she turned to Alyx, moving with a speed that didn't seem natural for someone of Flemeth's age and distortion. "If vengeance was all I wished for, you would be dead already. Oh, don't look at me like that, child. You _will_ die, of that there is no doubt, but not yet...not yet."

"What more could you want from me?" Alyx said between laboring breaths. Her arms trembled in their restraints and fresh sweat broke out across her forehead as she struggled to maintain upright through the confrontation.

"I would see everything you love ripped from your still-beating heart," Flemeth spat in fury, and then her expression melted into a smile as she grazed Alyx's jaw-line with one of her clawed hands. "Such a willful child you are; so cock-sure and proud in your so called principles. I knew all along that my Morrigan would betray me. It is in her nature after all, but you…I could never have predicted _you._ Perhaps you believe you've spoiled my plans, but you've only delayed them but a little."

"So this is about _Morrigan?_ " Alyx asked incredulously.

"In a way yes, I suppose it is," Flemeth replied with an ironic smile. "This body will not last for much longer. Soon I shall be forced to find a new host. Little did I know when you deprived me of my daughter that you would supply me with such a perfect replacement."

"_No," _Alyx whispered, horror stealing her breath away as realization flashed in her eyes.

"And why not? I think it the perfect conclusion to our dealings, my dear. A life for a life, as the old adage goes…or does it? I always get such things confused. But _oh_ what an opportunity! The daughter that should not exist…an untainted child of two grey wardens…impossible! And yet she _does _exist, doesn't she? And the last of the line of Calenhad to boot!"

"If you harm one hair on her head, I'll—"

"You'll be dead, therefore will have little say on the matter," Flemeth spat.

"There are others who protect her, witch. You will not succeed," Nate seethed. He would not let this creature take Jocelyn!

"And who will stop me? You?" Flemeth asked lightly as she stared down at him. "Such chivalry! And yet it does not matter. You and her pathetic little family would not be able to stop me, even were I not planning to kill you."

"Take me! I give myself to you freely, just…don't harm my daughter," Alyx cried.

"And have but a handful of years to live? I don't think so," Flemeth replied with a haughty snort.

"What could you possibly gain by killing us all? The darkspawn will surely take the surface if you do," Sigrun called to the witch.

"The darkspawn have organized under new leadership. Not even you would survive the impending onslaught if they were to be left unchecked. You told me so yourself once," Alyx added.

"Clever child," Flemeth replied with a quirk of a smile as she turned back to Alyx. "Very well. I will let your order stand, all save you of course…you and one other…but who, I wonder, would cause the most damage? Which one of these driveling fools lays claim to your heart's deepest desires?"

"You're too late. Her lover died two years ago...slain by the archdemon," Anders offered.

"Bah! How like a man! To presume to know the twists and turns of a woman's heart," Flemeth barked in amusement.

"He's right. My husband is dead," Alyx interjected, her chin going up a notch as her eyes flashed in determination.

"Do not think you can lie to _me_, child. I have tasted your blood, and blood never lies," Flemeth spat angrily. "We shall know soon enough, one way or another."

Flemeth moved to Oghren first, likely because he was closest in proximity. She eyed the dwarf for a long second and then barked again in laughter.

"Not even I have the imagination to believe her heart lies with one such as you, dwarf. Luckily for me there are other, more prominent choices that I can see. Yes…" she drawled, her husky voice sending chills down Nate's spine. His heart began to pound as the witch moved to Zevran and eyed him in speculation. Her hand shot out and pricked his neck with the tip of one long fingernail, producing a bead of blood that trickled down the front of his armor. She raised the nail to her lips and closed her eyes as she tasted his blood. Zevran sat perfectly still, his distaste showing only in the depths of his hooded, hazel eyes. To anyone not looking close enough they would think he cared little of the outcome of Flemeth's assessment of him. Nate knew better than that.

"Hmm, heady…like spices and wine," Flemeth pronounced, her eyes rolling in pleasure. "It's no wonder she has such affection for you, elf. What lust-drenched days you could've had together, had she chosen you instead of another. Alas, it is a truly platonic love she feels for you, one that I fear is more of a sister for a brother than a lover."

Zevran scowled at the witch as she cackled and turned to Anders. The mage struggled against his restraints as Flemeth turned and walked to him. She stooped down to look him in the eyes and practically purred in approval.

"What a fine specimen you are...and powerful too. I can feel the magic rolling off of you in waves," she said, closing her eyes as she breathed him in. She exhaled as she opened them again, a lustful, almost drunken expression crossing her face. "What a shame that I could not have you instead, but I've never taken a male host, and am not about to change that…more's the pity. Perhaps I should keep you around for other purposes," she continued as she ran her hands down his chest. Anders looked as if he was about to gag as he made a low noise of disgust at her attentions. Flemeth scowled and pricked his neck, just as she had Zevran's. She went very still as she rolled Anders' blood around on her tongue.

"Hmm, there's a great deal of affection here, yes, and curiosity…and a question left unanswered…but is it enough? I wonder…you could be he, but we must be thorough, mustn't we?" she said as she stood to her full height and turned her gaze to Nathaniel

Nate swallowed hard as he felt Flemeth's eyes on him. She walked slowly and deliberately toward him, like a predator on the prowl. He could sense her magic long before she stooped to look directly into his eyes. He struggled to keep his eyes down and away, but she took his chin in his hands and lifted his face until he had no other choice. It almost felt as if she were trying to rip the truth of him from out of his soul by the roots. He could hear his heart pounding loudly in his ears as he tried not to move despite the intuition to recoil from her in disgust.

"This one has surprising strength," she said after a time, her gaze turning more discerning as she eyed him intently. He could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck as the long seconds ticked by, feeling more like hours. Finally she released his face and took a step back.

When the prick came it was sharp but fast. He felt the blood trickling across his skin before his mind had time to process it but that, he knew, was the least of his worries. When Flemeth began to cackle in glee he didn't know what to think at first.

"Oh, how _cliché!_ And so droll," Flemeth crowed in delight, never taking her eyes off of him though her words were obviously meant for Alyx.

Nate's eyebrows shot up in surprise, the reason for the witch's mirth finally sinking in. His gaze connected with Alyx's and for a split second he saw the truth of it in her eyes. All of the feelings he'd kept carefully hidden away from her all this time were echoed in their cerulean depths, and for just a second he let the warmth of it wash over him. It was him. Her heart had chosen _him. _

"No," she whispered hoarsely, closing her eyes tightly against the truth.

"Enjoy this moment, boy, for it shall be your last," Flemeth murmured in his ear, her smile turning feral as a clawed-hand struck out to pierce his side. Nate screamed in pain as the talon-like nails sliced through his skin as easily as any blade, but all he could do was look down at the wound in surprise. Flemeth chortled with glee as she began to send waves of electrical energy through the wound and into his body. He could see it snapping all around him, tingeing the world in hues of purple and blue. He bit down hard in the attempt to stay silent but there was no use for it. He had never felt pain like this before, and the screams seemed to come from some part of him he couldn't control.

"_NO!" _Alyx screamed, her face contorted in anger and pain. She gritted her teeth and growled as she pushed with all her might against her bonds.

He didn't know if it was out of sheer willpower or if it was because Flemeth was so focused on her torture of him, but somehow Alyx managed to push her way to a standing position and then one by one, released her arms from their magical shackles. Flemeth screeched in fury as she turned her full attention to Alyx and with a flick of her wrists, sent her sailing high into the air. Alyx's arms flung out and her back arched unnaturally as a scream began deep in her chest and built up until the sound of it filled the room. It became a multi-layered, ear-piercing sound that bespoke of ultimate pain and suffering. Nate watched in horror as rivulets of blood trickled down her legs to pool on the floor at her feet. She was going to die before his very eyes, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Everything after that happened so quickly that Nate was never quite sure what happened. There was a flash of light and then Flemeth was screaming, not in triumph but in pain. Her skin began to glow and then crack. A thousand fractures spindled out until flecks of skin began to drop away, leaving a white-hot light in their wake. The same strange energy spilled from her mouth and eye-sockets, and then she simply shattered, disintegrating into a million tiny pieces that crumbled to the floor.

The quiet afterwards was deafening.

Nate slumped to the floor, his magical bonds apparently broken by the death of the one who created them. He could already feel the blackness trying to suck him under, but he held out against it as his eyes searched for Alyx in the gloom. He could hear his own breath wheezing up from his chest as he watched everything from a strange, side-ways angle. A small, unfamiliar figure ran across the room to crouch beside Alyx's unmoving form. The stranger pressed a hand to Alyx's neck, no doubt searching for a pulse.

"_You," _Zevran spat accusingly as he and the others joined the woman at Alyx's side.

"There's no time to explain," the stranger said in a low, husky voice. "You, mage. You must heal her quickly, before it is too late. We will need to move her before long. And you, tend to the other one. He, too, is fading fast."

He could hear another voice arguing and could tell it was Anders, though his tone was too low for him to hear the words.

"Think you that she will thank you if he dies?" the woman spat in irritation.

"_I_ will tend to him," Velanna said softly. Had he the energy, he might have been surprised at her gentle tone, but the darkness was quickly closing in. Velanna's face swam into view as cool fingers pressed against his temple, gently probing. "Nate?" she called to him, her voice sliding over his consciousness like a hazy memory. "Hold on. It will all be over soon," and then for the second time that day, everything went black.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"Am I not Merciful?" by Hans Zimmer (Gladiator OST);_ _"Adagio for TRON" by Daft Punk (TRON OST); "December 7th" by James Horner (Pearl Harbor OST); "Tristes Apprets, Pales Flambeauxs" by Agnes Mellon (Marie Antoinette OST)._


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39 – A Reason to Live**

She was floating in a warm red fog. There was neither pain nor an awareness of the passage of time in her unlikely cocoon, only emotions wrought from fragments of thoughts and voices that passed through the haze of her unwaking mind. Some of these brought her comfort, still others made her chest seize with fear or with anger. One voice made her yearn for something indefinable, something that felt as if it were just out of reach. As a whole none of these seemed to have any rhyme or reason to them, yet they remained her constant companion, for good or ill.

It was strange, this place. She felt safe…protected, yet detached somehow. Incomplete. She existed but did not. Something visceral inside of her whispered that she'd been here before…and then just like that, everything began to change.

She could feel a soft breeze brush against her skin, a sudden relief from the heat of the air. She squinted her eyes tightly against the bright light that danced across her face, flushing the insides of her eyelids in orange and auburn hues. Her nose twitched as the scent of incense, citrus and jasmine filled her nostrils, a curiously exotic combination of smells, but not entirely unpleasant. An odd sound met her ears, soft at first but growing louder the closer to consciousness she crept. Her brow furrowed in confusion. That sound…it was like the swinging of a flail…or the flapping of a bird's wings…no…giant _leathery _wings…

_Dragon! _Her mind screamed, startling her awake. She gasped as her eyes snapped open and then breathed a sigh of relief as she took in the canvas roof above her. She was in a tent, and the sound she heard nothing more than the rustling of the door-flap in the wind. Her relief was quickly followed by confusion, however, as she took in her surroundings.

The tent was not her own. Not only was it far larger than hers, but fully furnished in a style that was far too lavish to ever be mistaken as Fereldan. Instead of a simple bedroll she was lying on a mound of plump embroidered pillows, brightly colored and embellished with gold fringe and tassels. The floor was strewn with thick woven rugs that crisscrossed over its entire length. To her right was a small mahogany table offering bowls of assorted nuts and exotic fruits and next to it, a brightly upholstered chaise lounge. To her left was a sturdy mahogany armoire, a gilded changing screen and full length mirror.

Questions began to fill Alyx's mind. Where was she? How did she get here? And where were the others? Surely she was not a prisoner in this place…or was she? She had learned long ago to never take anything at face value, a truth that saved her skin more times than she could recall. It was admittedly difficult to feel weary, however, when surrounded by such finery.

As she stood and stretched Alyx caught her reflection in the mirror across from her and froze. She took a full step back, nearly tripping over her own two feet before realizing that the woman in the mirror was indeed her. The outfit she wore was nothing like she'd ever seen before (or at least not outside of the books in her father's library). The bodice was a deep green color, an intricate floral pattern embroidered into the rich fabric with golden thread. The neckline was severe, showing off a great deal of cleavage as well as a golden necklace clasped about her neck featuring a tear-drop ruby the size of her thumb. Her arms and several inches of her midriff were bare, showing off a pair of golden cuffs and a delicate chain that spanned the expanse of her waist. The skirt was in a vibrant cherry red, also edged in gold embroidery. At closer inspection it seemed to be made of one long piece of fabric wrapped in an intricate design about her waist, one end thrown over her shoulder like a sash of sorts. All of this was topped off by the most elaborate headdress she had ever seen. A heavy damask veil in the same red color as her skirt covered all but a few inches of her russet hair and was held in place by a pearl-encrusted circlet. Another gossamer veil of green draped across her face to cover her nose and mouth, leaving only her eyes exposed. Alyx had never been one to use cosmetics, but she could not help but appreciate how the black coal surrounding her eyes gave them an exotic tilt they otherwise lacked. When she unclasped the veil across her face she sighed with relief as the familiar lines of her features were revealed. Someone had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to dress her in this fashion, but why?

Turning from the mirror Alyx felt it was high time she investigate her surroundings. Nothing within the tent hinted as to whose it was or why she would have been brought there. If only she could remember the events of _before, _then she might have a better idea of what to expect now, but everything preceding the red mist was a blur.

She padded to the entrance on silent feet, taking a deep breath before cautiously peering beyond the flap. Her jaw dropped in shock. Caution forgotten, Alyx stepped out into the blinding sunlight and turned in a slow circle, not quite believing what she was seeing. Beyond the tent there was a world unlike any she had ever seen…a world of nothing but dunes and sky for as far as the eye could see. Whorls of sand danced on the wind, the only visible movement for miles. She was alone here.

That's when it clicked for her. She was in the fade.

She _had_ to be. There were no deserts to be found in Fereldan, and yet here she was in the middle of what could only be a desert. The question now was whose part of the fade was she residing in? It certainly was not her own. _Her_ mind could not have produced such things, and in such vivid detail. The tents, the clothing, the desert…none of these had she ever experienced in the real world, yet here she was.

"Hello?" she called, her voice echoing forlornly across the sand. _"Hello?"_ she called again, her only response the sound of the wind brushing by her. She stood there for a long moment, not sure as to what she should do. And then, as if in answer to her silent question, she felt a subtle pull from something deep within. Without hesitation she began to walk.

Alyx didn't know how long or how far she walked. The desert spread out before her, an endless sea of beige and blue. Yet the insistent tug kept her moving ever forward over the rolling dunes. Her clothes began to cling to her skin, sticky with sweat from the relentless sun. She thought she was used to the heat. Summers in Amaranthine could be suffocating, but this was different. There was no moisture in the air though the heat of the sun shot straight through you. It was like being cooked from the inside out. Strangely, despite the heat and the seemingly endless journey, she neither grew tired or thirsty. If she had any doubts before that she was, in fact, in the fade, they had all but vanished at this revelation.

Then, almost as if it appeared from nowhere, a line of trees wavered into existence on the horizon. _An oasis! _Alyx thought excitedly. Was this what she was meant to be looking for? She blinked once…twice…just to be sure it wasn't an illusion, but when she opened her eyes the trees were still there, standing tall and proud in the distance. She walked a little quicker now, confident that she was on the right path.

Alyx could not help but gape as she reached the edge of the oasis. Tall trees towered over her head, their trunks bare beyond a spray of feather-like fronds at their peaks. There were shorter, similar trees, some of which dripped with sweet-smelling fruits, others with delicate blooms. There were giant bushes with fat, waxy leaves and bushes that were colorful bursts of thick spikes, speckled or striped through with shades of reds, oranges and yellows. And the flowers…exotic and brightly colored in every shade of the rainbow.

At the center of all of this was a shallow pool of water so clear that she could see straight to its gently sloping bottom. The water itself was a brilliant aquamarine that changed in intensity with the play of light and shadow over its surface. Alyx's eyes were dazzled by all of this, her senses overloaded with each new discovery. Had she ever seen such vibrant colors before? She very much doubted so.

She wandered to the pool and sat by its sandy shores, immediately feeling a deep abiding sense of peace and tranquility…as if as long as she resided in this place, no harm could come to her. Folding her legs beneath her Alyx loosened her arms, closed her eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath. As her mind cleared she could feel her senses expand and sharpen. A tide of energy flowed through her, an energy she had nearly forgotten over the years in her despair.

She was not alone. Though the oasis appeared to be empty, she could feel a presence she hadn't been able to before…a presence she never thought to ever feel again. Her mouth tilted up into a small smile as she let the warmth of it spill over her.

"Hello Michiaki," she said without turning.

"So…has your mind finally calmed, ayasha?" her mentor's familiar, gravelly voice asked from behind her.

"No," she replied as she turned to face him, an ironic smile touching her lips. "But perhaps with time it has become more accepting."

Michiaki chuckled lightly at her words, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth as they exchanged a brief but warm embrace in greeting. Alyx took a step back to study her old friend and was hardly surprised to see him unchanged. Of all of the people she'd met over the years, he had been one of the few constants in her life. It was comforting to know that there was something left to her unmarred by the darkspawn.

"It's good to see you old friend," she said, squeezing his hands meaningfully.

"Ah, and it is good to see you too, child," he replied. "I had hoped you would come to me on your own, but you never were one for meditation."

"_You_ brought me here?" she asked.

Michiaki nodded in affirmation. She found herself unsurprised at this revelation. If this was his personal corner of the fade, it would only make sense that it would reflect a place that meant something to him. And why shouldn't it? She often found herself in Highever Castle in her own dreams (when she wasn't dreaming of darkspawn that is), why wouldn't he dream of his homeland? Michiaki had described his country to her in great detail over the course of their friendship. It was only now as the memories returned to her that she saw that the answer to the puzzle had been right there in front of her. The only question now was…

"Why?" she asked out loud, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Your time in the between is better served here than in the ether," he said.

"I don't understand," she replied carefully.

"Think back, ayasha. Try to remember the events that led you here," he said softly.

The two of them settled across from each other on the warm sandy ground as she closed her eyes and began to think, but nothing but shapes and colors and the occasional fragment of muffled voices came to the forefront of her mind. Why was it so difficult to remember? Something inside of her began to panic. What if she couldn't _ever_ remember?

"It's all fuzzy," she huffed in consternation.

"_Concentrate._ It will come to you."

Alyx nodded and once again, closed her eyes. Again she saw only shapes and colors, but as she started to relax into her thoughts they began to meld into more recognizable forms. Her brow furrowed in confusion as the images grew clearer, but were no more than snippets of time taken from her shattered memories.

Then suddenly she began to see it. She remembered there was a dark chamber that smelled of mold, death and darkspawn…_ the ruins!_ Her mind supplied of its own accord, but how did she get there? And then…_the lake! _And the mirror that had called to her, that brought her to that place. She remembered the pain, a sort of deep gnawing sensation that had overwhelmed her every time she slipped back into consciousness. Then when she was awake she could do nothing more than to pray for the only thing that would release her from the agony, but death never came. The outline of figures began to take shape until she recognized the faces of her companions, all staring at her in fear and concern…and then there was a voice that sent chills down her spine…

"No," she muttered as the memories came to her faster and faster, pain and emotions intensifying as the events played out in her mind. Her heart began to pound as she saw Flemith move first to Oghren, then to Zevran and Anders and finally, to Nate. _"No…" _she repeated more intensely as she heard Flemith cackle in glee just before the witch sunk her talons into Nate's side, forcing Alyx to watch in horror as the life began to leave his eyes…

"_Nathaniel!" _she screamed, startling herself out of her trance, her breath coming in heavy gasps.

"Peace, child. Your man is safe for now," Michiaki said calmly.

"He's not my man," she said too quickly, blushing furiously as she realized how revealing her reaction was.

"And yet you are more concerned about _his_ wellbeing than your own," Michiaki replied, grinning knowingly. Alyx opened her mouth to deny it, but then her face drained of all its color as the implication of his words sunk in.

"Michiaki, you're not…you don't mean to say…I'm not—"

"No, but you are close. Even as we speak your friends fight for your life."

Alyx took a moment to let that sink in. If they were fighting to save her, did that mean that there was still a chance…?

"Yes," Michiaki said.

"Yes?" Alyx asked in confusion.

"Yes is the answer to the question in your eyes. It is not your time, child," he replied.

"What if I don't want to go back?" she asked carefully. She could imagine spending the rest of her days in this tranquil place. There would be no more worrying, no more fear; no more fighting…she could be at peace at last…

"You must, if not for your brethren, then for the sake of your daughter."

_Jocelyn. _Guilt racked her body as she realized she hadn't considered her daughter at all while she was busy daydreaming about a peaceful existence in the beyond.

"You must protect her with your life, ayasha. She is the future of Fereldan," Michiaki told her.

"The future…you don't mean-? No, _no!_ I don't want that life for her! I _won't_ allow it!" Alyx yelled as she jumped to her feet and began to pace. She tried to calm herself but the very idea of what Jocelyn would have to face were she even to _consider_ taking the throne…

"You cannot change her destiny any more than you could change your own—"

"To _hell_ with destiny! Whatever happened to free will?" she screamed.

"Ayasha!" he barked, rare temper briefly flashing in his eyes. "It is not our destiny that matters, but the path we choose to get there," he said as he stood and approached her. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Ayasha," he began again, his voice turning soft and pleading. She dropped her head in shame for her temper.

"Don't you see?" she asked, her voice muffled with tears she refused to let fall.

He lifted her chin so that she was looking him in the eyes. _"_We must all play our part. Mine was once teacher, now _you_ must take up the mantle. She will need your strength and guidance to become what she must."

"Is there no other way?" she asked, her eyes pleading for him to understand.

"It is a mother's burden to worry for her child," he said with a small, knowing smile. "_Your_ child is sired from kings. Their blood is hers, and their honor burns bright in her heart. Change is coming to the world, ayasha. If there is any hope for your Fereldan your daughter must find her way, and without you, she will fail."

"But why me?" she asked. Surely if something were to happen to her Fergus would take guardianship over Jocelyn…and Fergus had been a _fabulous_ father.

"You have become a strong woman, far stronger than I could ever have imagined. You took back your life when most would have fallen into despair, and for that I am proud of you, ayasha."

"If I am strong it's because I have to be," she said.

"You are strong because the Maker wills it," he snapped.

Alyx sighed.

"So this is why you brought me here? To tell me this?"

"To warn you, yes, but this is not the only reason. I am an old man, ayasha, and my time is drawing to an end. Before I die I wish to grant you a boon."

"A boon? What sort of boon?" she asked curiously.

"The tall, ruggedly handsome sort of boon if I do say so myself," an achingly familiar voice drawled from behind her.

Alyx froze her entire body stiffening at the sound. Could it be? _No_, it was impossible! And yet…she swallowed hard, preparing herself to turn, half afraid that when she did no one would be there. She snapped her head around and her face immediately drained of all its color.

"Alistair," she whispered as her eyes traveled over his large, loose-legged warrior's frame. He wore a rich midnight blue doublet over a loose tunic, dark breeches and soft calf-skin boots. A simple leather belt was buckled low on his narrow hips and his wrists were encased in a pair of embossed matching leather bracers. He had an air of casual confidence about him that was rare for him outside of battle, but she thought it more than suited him here. Indeed, he looked far more like the king he should have been than he ever had before…or perhaps he would have if it weren't for the lop-sided grin plastered across his sun-bronzed face and the telltale sparkle of humor in his familiar hazel eyes.

She'd seen that same look on his face a thousand times before. Seeing it now was like a shock to the system. Alyx found it hard to breathe as the emotions whirled up inside her. She wanted to touch him, to feel the warmth of him beneath her fingertips and know that he was real and not just a figment of her imagination. She wanted to hold him and kiss him senseless, until the pounding of his heart matched her own. She wanted to _kill _him.

"Uh…surprise?" he said nervously as he opened his arms in welcome. As the silence stretched out and her look of shock turned into one of anger, the smile dropped from his face and he began to fidget.

Alyx stood unhurriedly, desperately trying to suppress her haywire emotions as she approached him, slow at first but gaining momentum as her temper flared. Alistair looked as if he wanted to bolt but he stood his ground nonetheless. She balled her hands into fists as she closed the distance between them and burst into action the moment she was within striking distance. She screamed nonsensical curses at him as she beat at his chest in her rage. Alistair stalwartly took the blows. When her screams turned into sobs and she sagged weakly against his chest he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her and held her close, rubbing her back as he whispered, "Hush now," and "I'm sorry, my love, so sorry," into her hair. He held her like that until her sobs turned first into wet snuffles and then subsided into soft, wrenching hiccups. Eventually she looked up at him, allowing him to wipe away the last of her tears with the pads of his thumbs. As she stared into his eyes, she found only love and concern behind them.

"You died," she croaked, not in accusation but in confusion.

"I did," he affirmed, though it came out sounding more like a question than a fact. She could see the weariness in his eyes, though who could blame him after her initial embarrassing reaction to his presence.

"Then how…how is this possible?" she asked.

Obvious relief filled his eyes at her question.

"You're in the Between," he said, and then sighed as she merely stared at him expectantly. "There are realms within realms in the fade, my love. The Between separates the dreams of the living from the Beyond. It's a threshold of sorts, and the only realm where the living and the dead can coexist."

"So…what? I can only see you because I'm more dead than alive?" she asked incredulously.

"That's not how I would've put it but essentially, yes," Alistair replied. "In all honesty I would never have even known you were here if it hadn't been for your old mentor. Michiaki sought me out and told me of your presence here, knowing I would want to speak with you if I ever had the chance."

"Michiaki? But how?" she asked, even more confused than she'd been before. Had he not just confirmed that he was still alive (though apparently not for much longer)?

"There are a handful of people with the gift to commune on both sides of the threshold. Michiaki is amongst these," he explained. "When he found you in the ether he was able to create this reality so we might meet…but only for as long as your living body allows you to remain in the Between. Which reminds me…as glad as I am to see you love, could you at least try to be a little more careful? Only being able to see you now because you're mostly dead _does_ put a damper on our reunion."

"Yes, because I certainly would have foreseen being taken by a crazed, revenge-seeking, demon-possessed witch…whom, by the way, I thought was _dead_…and was apparently intent on killing both me and my men…as a start," she said dryly.

"Point…taken," he murmured as color crept up his neck to infuse his face.

It was such a dear, familiar look that Alyx couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight of it. She sighed and leaned forward until her forehead touched his.

"I've missed you," she whispered. Alistair sighed contentedly as he grasped the back of her neck in one warm hand.

"And I you," he whispered back as he whorled his thumb across the skin at her nape, creating a delicious, calming sensation that spread through her senses like wildfire. "In all seriousness, Alyx, _please_ be careful. I know better than anyone how dangerous the life of a Warden can be, but our daughter has already lost one parent. She cannot spare another."

"You know of Jocelyn?" she asked, surprised.

The grin that broke over his face at their daughter's name was stunning to say the least.

"Yes, and I couldn't be more proud of her. She's beautiful! But how could she not be when she is the very picture of her mother?" he replied, hazel eyes dancing with pride and warmth.

"She has more your coloring, I think…and your smile," Alyx said.

"She does, doesn't she?" he said, his smile growing even wider than before.

"She's already begun to show signs of having inherited the infamous Theirin charm. There isn't a man or woman who's met her that hasn't been thoroughly wrapped around her tiny finger. She'll be a handful when she gets older," Alyx added, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"At least you won't have to worry about her picking up any horrible habits from me," he said cheekily and immediately regretted his words as the smile fell from her face. Alistair sighed. "Maker, Alyx, I'm sorry. I _want_ to be there for her, I do! But… this is for the best."

"_How_ is it for the best?" she demanded. "She will never have a normal life, Alistair, and she will never truly know her father though I talk to her about you constantly. _Telling _her about you is _not _the same. She deserves to have a father, and she deserves to have a life free of the political machinations that has forced me to hide her existence from the world."

"I know, my love, and I wholeheartedly agree, but we cannot choose our destinies. You are right to hide her, by the way. Anora cannot be trusted, but…there will come a time when it will no longer be necessary to hide her. Until then you must protect her with your life, though I think that goes without saying. She is—"

"—the 'Future of Fereldan.' Yes, Michiaki has told me as much," she replied bitterly.

"I know you do not like it, but it is how it must be. It is her—"

"—Destiny. Yes, yes, I know, I know," she interrupted irritably. "And this coming from the man who didn't want to be king," she murmured to herself, but Alistair heard it nonetheless.

"I might not have wanted to be king but I agreed, not only because it was right but because you believed in me. Believe in our daughter; help her to become the woman I know she could be. The rest will fall into place," he said.

Alyx eyed him silently in speculation, wondering exactly when Alistair had become so intuitive. Was it time in the Beyond that made him so, or had she simply not seen it before?

"You've changed," she said softly after a time.

"As have you," he replied sadly before a wicked light came to life in his eyes and his normal glib tone crept back into voice as he said, "Just so you know, if I weren't already dead, you'd be killing me right now woman."

"That isn't funny," she huffed as she shot him a pointed glare.

"And I'm not laughing," he replied seriously. "You don't know how hard it's been, watching you these past two years. You're miserable, Alyx, and you needn't be."

"And what _pray tell_ should I be so happy about, hmm?" she fumed. "The fact that my husband is dead, that I have to keep my child a secret from the rest of the world, or ooh! I know! How about the fact that I have save the world from the darkspawn…_again!"_

"Whatever happened to the confident, optimistic woman that always found time to enjoy life, no matter how hard it got? What happened to the woman I fell in love with?"

"She no longer exists! I _died_ that day atop Fort Drakon! What was left was nothing more than what was necessary and that only for Jocelyn's sake alone," she replied, feeling very tired all of a sudden.

"I don't believe that," Alistair said very quietly. "I've seen glimpses of the old you, the _real_ you slip out in rare moments of levity…when you stop thinking and allow yourself just to _feel._ If only you would stop blaming yourself for everything out of your control, and don't deny it Alyx! I know you too well!" he scolded as she opened her mouth to interrupt. She snapped her mouth closed again, blushing as he gave her a sharp look. "You've done me a grave disservice you know," he added, causing her eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Alistair sighed once again as he ran a hand through his tousled golden hair and then took both of her hands in his before he began again. "Did you think I wanted to die?" he asked. "I'd barely begun to live. I was young and healthy and chock-full of life. Hell, you could hardly have even called me a man before I met you. Every experience was so new and so fresh and I wanted to experience it all with you. _You_ made me into a man, Alyx, in more ways than you could ever know. The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt you, but of the two of us you had always been the stronger. I took that final blow not just to end the blight but to give you a chance at life, and you squander it by miring yourself in guilt. It _has_ to change, Alyx. "

"You say that as if it were easy," she said.

"It could be if you would only let it," he replied softly.

Alyx struggled to hold back the tears of shame that pressed hot against the back of her eyes. His quiet disappointment was far worse than any tirade he might have unleashed on her. Harsh words and yelling she could take, but this…it was nearly too much to bear.

"Let go of this nonsensical guilt, Alyx. I _chose_ to slay the archdemon. Nothing you could have said or done would have changed my mind, and nothing would have convinced me to allow you to take my place. Surely at least you can see that if you _had_ died in my stead Jocelyn would never have been born?"

"We could have both survived. There was another way…" she began stubbornly. "If I'd only accepted Morrigan's offer—"

"But at what cost? _Morrigan_ might have believed she knew what she was about, but trust me when I say it is far better this way."

Alyx nodded forlornly. She had come to the same conclusion herself long ago, but it still bothered her sometimes to think that the woman she had once called sister, the same woman who had abandoned them the night before they marched on Denerim, could have saved both their lives. Had she and Alistair accepted Morrigan's offer things might have turned out very differently. _And you might have released a monster a thousand times worse than the archdemon on the world for all you know, _she told herself.

"Alyx…look at me," he said, regaining her attention. "Slaying the archdemon…it was what I was meant to do. I knew it the moment I stepped onto that roof and I wouldn't change it now even if I could. There is no greater honor a Grey Warden can be given than the chance to stop the blight once and for all. I am proud to have been one of their numbers."

Alyx swallowed hard and nodded once again. She could hear the strength of his conviction in his voice and knew it to be truth. A part of her was appeased by this, but the hole in her heart was no closer to being healed by his words. Even after all this time she still mourned his absence, still longed for him in so many ways. Alistair had been more than just a lover; he had been her best friend. Perhaps that was why she held on so tightly.

"Take me with you…when you leave," she breathed, desperation lacing her words.

"You know I can't," he replied, his eyes filled with great sadness. He ran his knuckles lightly down the side of her face, his gaze turning fierce and full of longing as he traced her features with one long finger. Alyx leaned into his touch, closing her eyes as she tried to memorize this moment. Maker knew when they would see each other again…perhaps never. The thought truly scared her. When she opened her eyes again she knew she could not leave this place without feeling his lips against hers one last time. She reached up and pulled his head down to capture his mouth in a deep and passionate kiss.

Alistair responded with all of the sweet enthusiasm he'd always shown. For a moment she reveled in the familiar feel of his tongue dancing with hers, of his teeth nibbling tantalizingly across her lips, and in the strong feel of his arms around her, reflexively drawing her in closer until one could barely tell where one of them ended and the other began. It was the same as it had always been and yet…different. Not _bad_…just different. Her mind began to race. Alistair was her _husband_, the love of her life and the only man she had ever wanted to spend the rest of her days with, right? So what had changed? She wished she could say that it was simply a matter of time and distance, but she knew better than that. It was with a sudden clarity that she realized what it was…Alistair was not Nathaniel.

The thought made her stiffen in surprise. Despite her arguments to the contrary she _had_ begun to let go, and she _had_ begun to think of the future; a future that included one person in particular_. _Nathaniel Howe had not only crept into her heart he'd apparently set up shop and taken precedence, even over her beloved Alistair. The truth of it both startled and shamed her. She pulled out of Alistair's embrace slowly, afraid of what she would see in his expression. The sad smile on his face only confirmed to her that he knew…_he knew._

"Oh, Alistair…I'm so sorry my love!" she breathed, tears leaping to her eyes of their own accord.

"Shh, hush now! You have nothing to apologize for," he said as he wiped her tears away. "It is only natural and right for you find another. It's as it should be."

"But…you and I—"

"It's _him_, Alyx. It was always meant to be him…just as our time together was always meant to be finite."

"How can you say that?" she whispered accusingly.

"I'm not devaluing our relationship, not in the slightest. You were the best thing to ever happen to me, my love. The one and only thing to bring true joy into my life, but it was never meant to last. What you have with Nathaniel could last a _lifetime_ if you would only let it."

"But I promised—"

"Till death do us part…or have you forgotten that part of our vows?" he asked teasingly, bringing a blush to her face. He chuckled lightly at the look but then turned serious again as he continued. "Any promises you made to me were null and void the day I died. You are a free woman…though you have always been as much to me. It hurts that you would believe me cold enough to begrudge you the chance at happiness with another."

"I—" Alyx began, but she was at a loss for words. Once again she found herself near tears. Alistair simply smiled and lifted her chin until they were eye to eye.

"I love you Alyxandria Cousland Theirin. I will _always_ love you. But the truth is I can't be there for you or for Jocelyn no matter how much I want to be. Your Nathaniel is a good man and what's more, he cares for you. He could make you happy, I know he can. That's all I ever wanted you know…for you to be happy. You _deserve_ to be."

"Wynne and Leliana told me as much," she murmured, remembering the conversation she had with them in the study the day Nathaniel had kissed her. That seemed so long ago now…

"You should listen to them, my love. Don't shut them out," he said. Alyx nodded in understanding.

Alistair looked up as a brisk gust of wind passed over them.

"Our time is up," he announced.

"Must it be?" she asked him.

"I'm afraid so," he replied with a sad smile as he turned from her and looked beyond the building clouds.

"I do love you, you know," she said quickly, only just realizing she hadn't told him so over the course of their conversation.

"I never doubted it," he said warmly.

By then the wind had truly picked up, creating a sort of gritty haze as the sand whirled up from the ground. Alyx was forced to hold the veil across her face to keep the sand from shooting up her nose and into her mouth.

"Alyx?" a deep voice called to her from over the din of the wind. She _knew_ that voice.

"Nate?" she called as she whipped her head around to look behind her but all she could see was sand.

"Go to him," Alistair said, gesturing over her shoulder with one hand. "He's waiting," he added gently.

"Will I ever see you again?" Alyx asked him.

"You can count on it," he replied, his customary lop-sided smile spreading across his face. Alyx couldn't help but return his smile. She was sad that they were parting, but somehow the knowledge didn't hurt as much as it used to.

A river of sand rolled through the oasis, consuming all like the tide coming in off the sea. It filled the air until she could barely make out Alistair's form just a few feet away.

"Remember…be happy," he called through the whirlwind, and then, "Tell Jocelyn I love her!" It was the last thing she heard before he disappeared altogether.

Suddenly she realized she'd forgotten about Michiaki. Her shoulders drooped in disappointment, realizing it was far too late to go back. She wished she would've had a chance to thank him, for few people were given such an opportunity. Somehow he knew that she needed this sense of closure before she would ever be able to move on and somehow he found a way to give it to her. Alyx shot him a mental thank you and was only half surprised when she felt his warm 'welcome' pass across her consciousness as light as a butterfly's wings. She smiled, hoping against hope that they would meet again one day.

"Alyx!" Nate's voiced called to her from out of the swirling sandstorm.

"I'm here!" She cried. "I'm here!" Though she knew he could neither see nor hear her.

"Stay with me Lexy, don't leave me! Not now, Maker, not when we…we need you, Lex…_I_ need you, _please!" _he cried, his voice sounding hoarse and desperate.

_I'm coming, my love, I'm coming, _she thought as she let the desert take her. She walked with confidence into the storm, knowing that when she woke again it would be within her living body. She walked into the storm not knowing what to expect, but with the willingness to begin anew, if the choice would still be granted to her. Hope for the future and Nathaniel's voice led her into the storm…into the storm and out of the fade where a new world awaited her.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"The Desert Journey," and "Reunited" by Brian Tyler (Children of Dune OST); "A New World", "The King" and "Saladin" by Henry Gregson-Williams (Kingdom of Heaven OST); "Message for the Queen" by Tyler Bates (300 OST). _


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40 - A New World**

Alyx found waking up in the real world to be nowhere near as pleasant as it had been in the fade. For one, everything hurt. She could feel her temples pounding in time with her empty stomach, half the desert had lodged itself in her throat, and if she didn't find a privy soon she was likely to have an unfortunate accident. Of course actually getting to the privy might be something of a challenge, considering the trouble she was having just trying to convince her eyelids to open, let alone finding the strength to stand.

When her eyes eventually did flutter open she noticed several things at once. Firstly, that she was back at the Vigil, in her own bed in her private quarters. Secondly, that it was early morning…or so she assumed, judging by the bend of the light streaming in from the windows across the far wall and the remnants of last night's fire still smoldering in the fireplace. Seeing the familiar scarred furniture and the sparse decorations brought her a comfort she hadn't known she needed, ironic though it may be. For who would have guessed that the home of her enemy would one day become the one place she truly felt safe? Or perhaps it wasn't the Vigil so much as the people within it…or _person_ if she was to be completely honest with herself…a person who just happened to be slouched in an armchair near the fire.

_Nathaniel, _her heart whispered. Alyx found herself staring at him, drinking in every detail and committing it to memory.

In truth he looked retched. Deep bruises marred the delicate skin beneath his eyes, a telltale sign that he hadn't been sleeping. His facial hair had been allowed to grow so much so that within a few days he would have a full beard, and his hair hung loosely about his face instead of plated or swept back into a leather thong as was his habit. It was with a measure of surprise that Alyx realized that in all the time that she'd known him she'd never seen it completely unbound before. She decided she preferred it this way, wild and hanging in silky waves past his shoulders. It softened the sharp angles of his face yet somehow emphasized his aristocratic features. She often wondered how those same features that marked him as a Howe could be so attractive in him when it had made his father look stiff and perpetually sour. Perhaps it had something to do with the vast difference in their personalities. She inwardly shrugged, not wishing to contemplate the late Arl for longer than necessary.

Her breath hitched in her chest as Nate huffed and shifted in his sleep, the creases between his eyebrows momentarily intensifying before they smoothed out almost completely. _He can't be comfortable, _she thought as her eyes traveled over his long, lanky form sprawled across the armchair and noted the simple, loose clothing he wore. Nate was not what she would call a vain man, but he had always taken pains to keep himself properly clothed and groomed. In the end she believed it to be years of strict instruction and breeding that was so deeply ingrained that it had become a part of him, just as it had become a part of her. Perhaps that was why it was so unsettling to witness him in such disarray. She'd rarely seen him out of a full set of leather armor let alone in something so…well, _untidy._ Even the laces at the neck of his tunic had been left undone, exposing a light smattering of dark hair through the gap in the material. It was such a small thing, hardly inappropriate, and yet she had the sudden compulsion to reach out and place her hand against his chest, if only to feel his heartbeat strong and steady against her fingertips. Alyx smiled to herself. He might look a mess, but he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. He was alive…and so was she for that matter.

"So you're awake at last," a feminine voice called softly from the other side of the room. Alyx stiffened at the sound of it. She knew that voice. _It can't be, _she thought, but there was no mistaking the low, sultry timbre that was as familiar to her as her own. She turned her head to glance behind her, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Careful now. You'll tear your wounds open and your slack-jawed buffoon of a healer will have an apoplexy," the woman added with the touch of a sardonic smile.

Alyx stared at the yellow-eyed, raven-haired beauty that stood on the other side of the bed, arms crossed haughtily in front of her chest. She blinked a few times to be sure that she truly was awake and that this wasn't some horrible nightmare.

"Morrigan?" she rasped.

"Yes, your eyes do not deceive, my friend. 'Tis me," Morrigan said as she walked around the bed to kneel so that they were eye to eye.

Alyx could only gape. The woman hadn't changed a bit since she'd last seen her. She possessed the same lethal beauty and the same arrogant demeanor that she remembered from their travels together. The only noticeable difference now was a subtle hint of nervous uncertainty within the depths of Morrigan's cat-like eyes. Alyx narrowed her own in suspicion.

"What are you—"she began angrily but clamped her mouth shut as she looked sideways at Nate's sleeping form.

"You needn't worry, he'll not wake…not yet at any rate," Morrigan said softly, her full lips quirking up into a knowing smile.

"If you've harmed him—"

"Tsk, tsk, sister! Such scathing looks you give, and without the benefit of an explanation. _My_ how we've changed!" Morrigan drawled, her eyes widening to enhance the effect of her words. Alyx simply glared at her, unimpressed with the all-too-familiar act. Morrigan sighed in resignation. "Tis but a simple sleep spell which, I assure you, was for his own good. The foolish man has refused to leave your side and thus has refused to rest as he should. I told him that he would never heal properly if he continued to ignore his body's needs, but he is just as stubborn as you are… more so if that were even possible. Perhaps that is why I like him…or mayhap it is simply because he is not Alistair."

"You shouldn't speak ill of the dead," Alyx snapped in annoyance.

"'Tis not an insult but a matter of fact," Morrigan replied, her chin going up an arrogant notch. "I never pretended to like the man and will not oblige you now simply because he is dead."

"Why are you here?" Alyx asked with a heavy sigh.

"Do you not recall?" Morrigan asked, her head cocking to one side.

Alyx's brow furrowed in confusion. What was she...? Suddenly it all began to come back to her. Her breathing grew shallow and unsteady as she was seized with an onslaught of images and feelings that had been suppressed since the moment she lost consciousness. The ruins, Flemeth, Nate…

"_Jocelyn!"_ she gasped, the single word little more than a whisper between her cracked lips.

"Your daughter is safe," Morrigan replied calmly, her hand coming up to briefly rest on Alyx's shoulder. The simple motion simultaneously stilled her trembling limbs and strangled a relieved sigh from between her lips.

"How can you be sure?" she asked, her eyes once again narrowing at the other woman.

"You and Jocelyn have a rare bond, one that not even Flemeth can sever. As long as you live your daughter is safe, at least from one such as she…a detail Mother no doubt forgot to mention. Surely you did not think revenge was her only motive?" Morrigan asked with a sly smile.

"Yes, well I…wait. It was _you_ wasn't it? In the ruins. You killed Flemeth," she gasped.

"If only that were true," Morrigan replied with a sad smile. "If there exists a way to truly kill her I have yet to find it. Instead I merely trapped her."

"Trapped?" Alyx repeated.

"Within an enchanted amulet," Morrigan confirmed with a curt nod.

"And this is safe…how?"

"The ritual that would free her is an ancient one. 'Tis blood magic and thus, not commonly known, even in Tevinter. Only the most powerful of mages would have the ability to perform such a ritual…assuming they were able to retrieve the amulet in the first place, which is unlikely. 'Tis well hidden in a location known only to myself…a knowledge I would keep secret, even from you."

"But what if someone were to find it by chance?" Alyx pressed.

"Then they would likely think it a pretty trinket and nothing more," Morrigan said with a heavy sigh. "I understand your concern, Falcon, but I have thought this through carefully. The chance of someone stumbling upon it is as likely as finding your proverbial needle in a haystack."

Alyx nodded in understanding though she couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. Something told her that one way or another, Flemeth would rise again.

Glancing back at Morrigan, Alyx wondered what the woman hoped to achieve by suddenly reappearing after all this time. She had once considered her to be a dear and loyal friend, despite her surly demeanor and despite Alistair's obvious and vehement disapproval of her. He had been right to mistrust her as it turned out, and she had never forgiven Morrigan for abandoning them in their greatest time of need. Why had her supposed "sister" returned? And what had she to gain from being here? Anger rose unbidden as she remembered their last meeting in the guest quarters at Redcliffe and her abrupt departure shortly thereafter. She had been used and deceived by this woman and nothing since then had served to expunge the lingering sense of betrayal.

"Why?" Alyx asked in dangerously soft tones, her nostrils flaring delicately in her anger.

"That is a rather broad question—"

"Then perhaps you should start at the beginning," Alyx interrupted.

Morrigan snapped her mouth shut, temper flaring to life in her eyes as she raised her chin yet another notch.

"I was sent with you for a purpose. Once that purpose failed I had no more reason to stay, and as far as Flemeth…'twas only a matter of time before she resurfaced. She needed to be stopped, and I was the only one with the knowledge to stop her."

"Then why are you still here?" she asked softly.

"I…" Morrigan began, the sudden gruffness to her voice finally showing a crack in her façade. Alyx remained silent as she watched Morrigan's internal struggle in fascination. She looked like an animal that had wandered into a cage and just realized the door had snapped shut firmly behind her. When Morrigan suddenly began to laugh Alyx didn't know whether she should be relieved or worried.

"Truly it has been too long since I've been in the company of others," Morrigan began as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'd forgotten that most people do not view emotions as Mother had. Loyalty, faith, kinship, love…all of these things she saw as no more than weaknesses; tools to manipulate and exploit. I had always agreed with her on the subject, or at least I did. It was you who taught me that there can be strength in such things, yet it seems I have fallen back into old habits despite this."

"I don't understand," Alyx replied carefully, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"I _lied_ Falcon. I fled not because I had failed in my task but because I couldn't stand to see you foolishly sacrifice yourself."

Alyx's eyebrows flew up at this confession but she held her peace as Morrigan continued, her voice low and hoarse.

"I knew from the first what Mother had in mind for me, but when it came time to offer you my services I found myself curiously nervous of the outcome. I found I wanted you to accept, not for my own sake but for your own. Yet despite my anxiety I was certain that you would accept, for only a fool would deny the offer of life, and _you_ are no fool."

"Yes, but—"

"Please…let me finish," Morrigan said with a small gesture of her hand. Alyx's eyebrows shot up at her politeness. In all the time she had known her, Alyx couldn't recall Morrigan ever using the word "please"_._ _Perhaps she has changed more than I thought, _she mused as she leaned back against the pillow and allowed Morrigan to continue.

"So confident in your answer was I that the possibility that you would deny me was not a reality that I had been prepared for. It was in that moment, seeing the determined look in your eyes, that I realized that if it came down to it, you would willingly sacrifice yourself to spare _him_. I was shocked, and _furious_ to think that you would throw your life away for the sake of that fool templar. So I left."

"We needed you, Morrigan. _I_ needed you, and you just…_abandoned_ us to our fate," Alyx seethed, her eyes shifting to the other side of the room as she tried to control her swirling emotions.

"No you didn't. You defeated the blight without my help, just as I knew you would."

"No. _Alistair_ did, and I've had to bear the guilt of it ever since."

"I know," Morrigan replied softly, causing Alyx's eyebrow's to go flying once again. Morrigan chuckled softly as she reached out to briefly squeeze her hand in a rare show of warmth. "You were the only friend I have ever had, a sister not in blood but in bond. I regretted leaving almost from the first, but by then I thought it too late to make amends. With Alistair dead and the blight ended I had no viable excuse to return to your side, but I could not help but feel that I yet owed you for your unflagging confidence in me, deserved or no. I checked on you from time to time, always watching at a safe distance in one form or another. There were times I nearly gave myself away, times when I wanted nothing more than to shake you until you awoke from your self-inflicted misery, but I never got up the courage to do so. Instead I helped wherever I could, when I thought it safe to do so without being discovered. In this way I was able to both satisfy my curiosity and ensure your well-being, though you didn't always make it easy for me."

"The falcon…that was you wasn't it?" Alyx asked.

"Indeed it was," Morrigan replied with a smile. "I thought it a fine form to take…under the circumstances."

"And what of Flemeth? How did you even know where to find her?"

"Ah, yes. I had been tracking her movements for some time. I knew she would be looking for a new host but 'twas nearly too late before I learned of her true intent. I only wish I had discovered her plans sooner, if for no other reason than to save you from the physical and mental torture she surely inflicted upon you."

"Yet you saved my life and my daughter's by extension, as well as that of my men. I could never ask more from you than that. Thank you…sister."

"You are welcome, though your gratitude is unnecessary. I did only what had to be done," Morrigan said too quickly, obviously touched by her words but uncomfortable with the emotion behind it.

"Perhaps," Alyx replied, a ghost of a smile touching her lips as her eyes danced with silent mirth. Morrigan smiled in return and for an instant Alyx felt as if the last couple years had dropped away and they were simply two women sharing a moment of peace amidst a world that had gone incredibly wrong. And then just like that the spell was broken and they were back in her bedroom at the Vigil once again. The smile faded from Alyx's mouth as she stared at Morrigan, wondering if she ever really knew the woman at all.

"Will you stay?" she asked before she could think better of it.

"For a time," Morrigan replied simply. Alyx nodded when she didn't elaborate.

A yawn from across the room made both women whip their heads around. Nate stretched and rubbed his neck before his dark head came up, his hooded, sleep-heavy gaze immediately focusing on them. She saw the moment he realized she was awake in the sudden tension in his shoulders and the subtle widening of his silverite eyes.

"I'll just…go and let the others know you are awake," Morrigan said with a knowing smile and a brief squeeze of her hand before she stood and sashayed out the door, but Alyx had barely heard her words. The moment Nate's eyes had met hers from across the room the rest of the world had simply fallen away.

Her head began spinning with a sudden nervous energy as he stood and approached the bed. _Calm yourself! It's only Nate, _the voice of reason hissed in her ear. _Yes, but everything is different now, _her heart whispered in return. How could things _not_ be different now that he knew? Her heart had been laid bare thanks to Flemeth, and she had never felt so exposed in her entire life. It was not in her nature to feel so inhibited, even vulnerable…especially around men. She hadn't even felt this way around Alistair, though in truth she never had reason to hide her affections from him or he from her. Even in the beginning. Somehow things were different with Nate, _he_ was different, and she didn't know what to say or how to act around him now that they had this knowledge between them…_the proverbial pink elephant, _she thought with a wry, inward snort.

Alyx felt the tick shift with his weight as Nate carefully sat on the edge of the bed, his arm naturally settling on her opposite side as he gently leaned over her. She froze at his proximity and at the intensity in his stormy gaze as his eyes wandered intently over her features. He seemed to be searching for something in her expression, as if he was ensuring himself that she truly was awake….or perhaps he was simply waiting for her to say something. She inwardly panicked, unsure of how best to break the awkward silence that had settled between them, but nothing besides 'hi' came to mind (_and that would be just plain stupid, _she added to herself with a mental kick). In the end it was he that spoke first.

"This isn't going to become a habit of yours is it?" he asked in a low husky voice, the side of his mouth quirking up in a lop-sided smile.

Alyx chuckled softly, automatically relaxing at his teasing words. How long ago it seemed that she had asked him the very same question, when their places were reversed.

"Yes well, don't tell Anders. He'd kill me," she drawled with an answering smile that faded as quickly as it had come. _Anders. _Her heart ached for the mage, but she knew she had made the right decision. She would have to speak to him about it, though it was one interview she was not looking forward to. She only hoped that with time, he would understand.

Nate frowned at the mention of Anders' name but didn't comment on it. Instead he reached out to gently brush away a tendril of hair before cupping one side of her face in his hand. For the first time, Alyx allowed herself to lean into his touch, reveling in the warmth of his long, elegant fingers as his thumb swept lazily across her cheek. She stifled a gasp as the last vestiges of his composure crumbled at her silent acceptance, revealing the maelstrom of feelings beneath the surface. She had become so accustomed to seeing the typical neutral mask he so frequently wore that it was something of a shock to see his emotions written so plainly across his face. _Oh my, _her mind whispered, her heart beating a little faster. _I certainly could get used to this, _she thought.

"Maker, Lex. I thought I lost you," he said hoarsely. _For a second there you almost did, _she thought, but didn't say so aloud. She didn't want to give him anymore reason for concern, especially not while he was looking at her the way he was now.

"I could say the same about you," she said instead.

"And yet here we are," he replied with another wry smile.

"Here we are," she agreed with a small smile of her own. "Though I'm not quite sure _how_ we are. How did we get back to the Vigil?"

"Ah, well that is a rather long story," he replied cautiously.

"Please, Nate. I need to know."

Nate sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. Alyx relaxed and settled against the pillows as he began to tell her of how they tracked her after her disappearance and how they unexpectedly met up with Zevran in the ruins.

"If it wasn't for Hector neither of us would be here right now."

"Hector? What did he do?" Alyx asked in surprise.

"Zevran had the presence of mind to send him for help before Flemeth overtook us. I don't know how he did it, but your mabari was somehow able to waylay a merchant's caravan on its way to Amaranthine. Once they realized who you were they readily agreed to take us back to the Vigil. From what your friend Morrigan told me later on, given the extent of our injuries had they tried to carry us on horseback, neither one of us would've survived the trip. Even then it took everything in Anders' power to keep you alive for the duration."

"And foreigners wonder why we regard our dogs so highly," Alyx replied, eyes sparkling with pride for her dearest and most loyal companion. "Poor lad. I should really retire him after this. He deserves some down time before he gets too old and fat to enjoy it."

"Indeed," Nate murmured in return.

"Out of curiosity, just how long was I out for?" Alyx asked.

"Eight…no, nine days now."

"_What?" _Alyx cried. Had she really been unconscious for nearly a week and a half? "How is that even _possible?" _

"You will have to ask Anders for the specifics, but from what I was told it wasn't your injuries but the infection that set in soon afterwards that nearly killed you. He was forced to keep you sedated until he was certain you wouldn't thrash around and reopen your wounds, and even then you were under constant supervision. It wasn't until a couple days ago that he declared you out of danger."

"Maker," Alyx breathed, still finding it hard to believe that she had truly been unconscious for so long. "And of what of you?" she asked, shooting him a speculative look.

"I'm fine," he said with a shrug.

Alyx narrowed her eyes at him. Before he could stop her she reached out and lightly poked at his side.

"Uh-huh," she said dryly as he reflexively pulled back and winced.

"It's still a little tender but it's fine, really."

"Nate—I'm sorry you had to go through that. Had I known—"

"You believed Flemeth to be dead. How could you have known?" he said as he shot her a reproving look. "You need to stop blaming yourself for everything out of your control. We survived. That is what matters most."

Alyx blanched at his words, taken aback by how similar they were to Alistair's. For a second she wondered if Alistair was watching her somewhere on the other side. She could almost imagine him saying 'Seeeee, I told you so!' and smiling his annoyingly smug smile as he did so. _Just so you know, I'm not laughing, _she thought as she shot a scathing look up at the ceiling.

"Can I ask you something?" Nate asked quietly, drawing her attention back to him.

"Of course," she replied as she eyed him curiously.

"What Flemeth said…was it true?"

"Surely you aren't jealous of Oghren? He might be strapping for a dwarf…barring the smell and the occasional drunken stupor..not to mention that bizarre rash he was telling me about, but he _is_ a married man you know—"

"_Alyx!" _Nate growled in frustration. She had to stifle a chuckle, but immediately sobered as she took in his pained expression.

"Every word," she said softly as she met and held his gaze.

"Why did you not tell me? Why did you let me believe that…_why?" _he ground out.

Alyx turned her head and closed her eyes against the obvious pain in his expression. She had hurt him, and it killed her to see it.

"I thought it was best," she almost whispered.

"Best for _whom_ precisely?"

"For _you,"_ she snapped, her eyes meeting his once again. "You deserve more, Nate. I…I'm not the woman I once was…the woman that I _should_ be. I haven't been her since before the blight. Bits of myself have been scattered across Fereldan and I lost hope of picking up the pieces long ago. Don't you see? I'm not _whole_, and I doubt I shall ever be again."

"You're wrong," he replied, his steely eyes flashing down at her with an intensity that made her heart beat faster. "You are more than anything I could possibly deserve and far more than I could ever hope for. You are _beautiful_, Lex, from the inside out. There's no one in all of Thedas like you, and I wouldn't want you any other way. The woman you say you once were? I never knew her. _She's_ not the woman that has bewitched me, body and soul."

"Bewitched is it?" Alyx murmured. "You speak as if I were a blood mage, controlling your very thoughts."

"A blood mage may be able to control the mind but I've yet to hear of one that can control the heart…and it is my _heart_, my Lady, that is engaged," he said, his gravely voice pitching down an impossible octave.

_Oh, Maker! _Alyx breathed to herself, thinking that if her heart beat any faster it might just fly out of her chest…and then he smiled, causing the dimple in his cheek to appear and her insides to melt into a pile of goo. Swallowing hard, Alyx wondered if he had any idea what his smiles did to her. He _must_ have, or perhaps he had seen something in her expression for his smile widened as he chuckled and leaned closer to rub one calloused thumb across her bottom lip. Her breath hitched at the contact, her senses tingling with the longing she had desperately tried to hide from him since she discovered her feelings for him.

Nate slowly lowered his head, giving her ample time to pull away if she wished to, but stopping him was the last thing on her mind. No. She would not refuse him, not now or ever again. If she wanted to she could easily close the distance between them but she waited, wanting to give him the choice. He tilted her chin up with a touch of his fingers, his stormy gaze searching hers for the answer to his silent question. Alyx reached up and lightly brushed her knuckles across his jaw, hoping her eyes conveyed her need. It was all the answer that he needed.

Nate's lips were warm and gentle as they tentatively brushed across hers. For a second their breaths mingled and then his tongue dipped into her mouth in one long, languid stroke that sent all of the air rushing out of her lungs in a _woosh._ It was all she could do not to whimper as their lips and tongues tangled in a slow, seductive cadence that was simultaneously searing and tender at the same time. She wondered how he could bear to take things so leisurely when she herself felt as if she might burst into a thousand tiny pieces at any moment. Restless hands reached out of their own accord to tangle within his hair and she was pleasantly surprised to find the raven locks to be just as silky smooth to the touch as she always dreamed it would be. He groaned into her mouth as her fingers tightened their grasp, the singular sound intensifying her need beyond anything she had ever experienced before. This, _this _should have been their first kiss. With their mutual affection finally laid bare between them; with their bodies, hearts and minds in accord. She could go on kissing him like this forever…and she very well might have if it hadn't been for the sound of a clearing throat from across the room.

Both of them snapped their heads around to gape in surprise at the small group gathered just inside the open doorway. Zevran had his arms crossed in front of his chest, a smug smile written across his face as he leisurely leaned against the door jam. Sigrun stood next to him, one hand raised to her mouth in the attempt to hide her mirth (though Alyx could clearly see it dancing in her eyes). Beside her stood Oghren and even Justice and Velanna, who both kept a careful distance from the others. Alyx was touched that they would all come to visit her, though she was a little crestfallen when she realized that Anders was not amongst them, but she understood. She could imagine that she wasn't exactly his favorite person right now.

"Stickin' it to the boss. Good on ye' son," Oghren growled, his eyebrows wagging suggestively at them. Alyx groaned as she desperately tried to hide the blush that spread across her face. Nate, however, didn't look embarrassed at all. He even flashed them a wolfish grin that was so unlike his typical response that she had to keep herself from gaping at him outright.

"Pay up, Oghren," Sigrun chirped as she elbowed him in the ribs. Oghren expression fell as he rubbed at his ribs in irritation, grumbling obscenities under his breath as he reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out a small pouch of coins that clinked as he placed it in Sigrun's outstretched hand. Alyx arched an eyebrow at her in question, but Sigrun simply shrugged and smiled sweetly in reply.

Alyx turned back to Nate when she felt his hand on hers. His eyes sparkled down at her with such warmth that she swore her heart skipped a beat. "Later," he whispered in her ear, his husky voice sending a shiver of anticipation coursing down her spine. He placed a lingering kiss on her brow before he stood to make room for the others at her bedside, but he didn't go far, only retreating as far as the chair he had been sleeping in when she first awoke.

Alyx smiled and nodded as her friends crowded around the bed, each trying to outdo the other with anecdotes of the last couple of weeks. All the while she could feel Nate's eyes on her as he silently observed them from the hearth. She couldn't help but glance at him from time to time, letting the warmth of his gaze wash over her all over again and filling her with a giddiness she hadn't felt since she was a child. For the first time since she became a warden she allowed herself to feel happy without the sensation of guilt and duty hanging over her like an oppressive cloud. For the first time in longer than she could recall, she felt at peace.

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **"_Awakening" by Rachel Portman (The Duchess OST); "The Secret Wedding" by James Horner (Braveheart OST): "Trying to Relate" by George Fenton (Ever After OST); "Jenny's Grave" by Alan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST); "Whisper of a Thrill" by Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black OST); "Ship to Shore" by David Arnold (Dawn Treader OST)_


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41 - Heartbreak**

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _Repeated in Anders head like a mantra as he paced the small space afforded to him within his private chambers, much like a pendulum swinging faster and faster; only he felt as if he were moving against the forces of gravity rather than with them. Every step he took fueled his fury to greater heights until he felt as if he might spontaneously combust …and as a mage he knew it wasn't quite out of the realm of possibility.

Anders had been pacing like this for what felt like hours. Ever since that witch Morrigan had sauntered into the dining hall and announced that Falcon was awake. The relief amongst his companions at the news was palpable, but nothing they felt could compare to the wave of emotion that crashed over him in that moment. For days he had done little else beyond focusing on Falcon's teetering health. There were times he knew that she had been close to point of no return. It had taken all of his collected knowledge and energy to pull her back from the brink, and although he had told the others days ago that she was out of danger there had still been a part of him that feared the worst. Infections were unpredictable at best. He had seen patients like Falcon take a turn for the better only to suddenly worsen and die. When there was nothing else he could do but wait he had turned to prayer, though he held little hope that the Maker would listen to the appeals of an apostate. Just knowing that she had regained consciousness was alleviating, and certainly a step in the right direction.

Anders had tried to keep his cool but his impatience had gotten the better of him, spurring him on ahead of the others as they traipsed up the stairs to her rooms. He'd been giddy in his relief, as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't felt this light-hearted in weeks, and it had been nearly overwhelming in its intensity. It was like electricity humming under his skin; like that pleasant buzz that washed over him after a couple snifters of his favorite brandy. He wanted to whoop with joy. He wanted to sing with rapture and dance like a dervish, and then laugh until his stomach hurt and the tears were streaming down his face. He had _not_ been prepared to find her locked in a passionate embrace with _him, _nor had he been prepared for the crushing pain that followed. In mere seconds his entire world came tumbling down around him and all he could do was stand frozen in place and stare like a lack-witted fool. Gutted, Anders had walked away before the others could see the anguish that was surely written across his face.

He had only himself to blame, really. Hadn't he already known what Falcon's decision was? He had known it, in fact, almost before that abomination of a woman had announced it for all the world as if it were some perverse internal joke. Yet despite everything some tiny sliver of his subconscious had held out hope. Perhaps Flemeth had been mistaken…perhaps she had intentionally lied to them…_or perhaps you didn't want to believe that Falcon had chosen someone else over you,_ a tiny voice in his head interjected. Anders scowled, knowing that the voice was right, but not fully wanting to admit it.

In truth he really hadn't had time to let it fully sink in. He had been too busy trying to keep her alive to really think through the ramifications of Flemeth's words…even with Howe's constant, annoying presence hovering in the background. It was seeing the two of them together that had truly brought the harsh reality of it crashing down on him.

She was in love with him.

Even if Flemeth had never said anything he would have known it just by the expression on her face as she and that overbearing bastard devoured each other like it was their last meal. Her eyes had been closed but the emotion was still plain to see, even from across the room. It was more than longing, more than passion (though there was certainly _that_ in spades). It was profound and intense need;as if her very life depended on Howe's touch. Anders had dreamed of seeing that very expression on her face, only in his dream it was _he_ that she was thinking of and not the "Baron of Brood", as he had been calling him in his head for weeks. A stab of pain shot through his chest as he relived the scene over and over again in his mind. He wondered if this is what Howe felt when he had walked in on _him_ and Falcon kissing all those weeks ago…and then dismissed the thought out of hand. The man hadn't known with the same certainty as he that Falcon was exactly where she wanted to be and with whom she wanted to be with. It was _not_ the same. Not in the least.

Anders scowled again as he glanced at the half-filled satchel lying on his bed. He had gone straight to his chambers after fleeing Falcon's room and immediately began packing what meager belongings he had. He only stopped when he realized what he was doing and stared at the bag in disbelief. He'd been acting on adrenaline and instinct alone, but the action itself had allowed some of the fog to clear from his mind, if only enough to make him stand back and think about what he was doing. That's when the pacing began.

If he left now he would not only be a fugitive from the Circle but from the Order of the Grey as well. It would only be a matter of time before one or the other caught up with him, whether they used his phylactery or traced him through the taint in his blood. If the templars caught him he would be executed on the spot, and if the wardens caught him…well, from what Falcon told him the wardens were about as keen on deserters as the army was...so he would be executed on the spot. It was a grim reminder of how few choices he had as an apostate, but could he really spend the rest of his days watching the woman he loved with someone else? It's not that he thought Falcon to be cruel enough to flaunt her newly budding relationship, but no matter how discreet they were there would always be little reminders, whether it be heated glances from across the fire or little touches here or there as couples often shared. Soon they would be sharing a bed as well (or a tent depending on their locale), and he couldn't bear the thought that he would wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of their lovemaking. As if it wasn't hard enough knowing that the rest of his life was to be spent killing darkspawn, he had to do it while slowly being tortured. _But_…if he left now he would be breaking his promise to Falcon, effectively destroying their friendship and her trust in him. Worse still, he would be proving Howe right. The very idea made his blood boil. Anders sighed and ran his hands through his hair. As much as he knew that staying would be the right course of action, he couldn't ignore the voice in the back of his head that insisted that he run. Still...where would he go? Orlais? Antiva? The Free Marches? He heard Kirkwall was nice this time of year...

"If you are planning what I think you are, mage, then you are a greater fool than even I initially gave you credit for," a sultry, feminine voice called from across the room.

Anders glanced at Morrigan's lithe form leaning in his open doorway, her cat-like eyes sparkling with mischief even as her lips curled up into a mocking grin.

"Did no one ever teach you how to knock before entering?" he growled.

"'Tis a rather pointless custom in the Wilds, but if you insist," she replied as she raised her hand and rapped her knuckles once sharply against the wooden doorway before sauntering into the room. Anders sighed.

"Can't you find someone else to annoy? I'm in no mood for company," Anders said as he continued pacing.

"Aww, poor little apostate lost his heart and can't bear to see her with someone else. What ever shall he do?" she cooed, her mocking tone grating to his ears. She chuckled as his face reddened and his jaw flexed in barely contained anger. "Come now, don't look so surprised," Morrigan continued as she slowly approached him, her hips swaying seductively with every step. "I've seen the way you look at her, all your pretty castles in the sky as clear as day on that handsome face of yours. A shame, really. You could have saved yourself a world of pain had your eyes only been open to the truth."

Morrigan reached out and touched his face as she spoke, her eyes dancing with the same ridicule that dripped from every word.

"Are you naturally this bitchy or do you actually have a point?" Anders snapped as he slapped her hand away from his face. Morrigan smirked, looking very much like a cat with a bowl of cream.

"Falcon and the Howe boy are bound, more so than any petty service your Chantry could hope to acquire. Their futures are intertwined and have _always_ been thus. Even from the very first moment they met, though they were not but children at the time. It is a rare and powerful thing, something you as a mage should already have picked up on. Mages have always been more sensitive to such things. Then again, if you hadn't been so busy drooling all over yourself like a mabari in heat you might have sensed it as I have."

"You lie!" Anders spat as he closed the distance between them and grabbed Morrigan roughly by the arms. "You know nothing about me _or_ my feelings. What do you even know about love?"

"I know enough to recognize it, and I know _you_…or at least your type. You will howl and beat at your chest for a time, but then you shall meet another, more suitable woman, and you shall forget all about your ridiculous infatuation. Tsk, tsk, tsk…do not give me that look! I am not implying that _I_ am that woman_…_though if you are seeking a certain…_release_ from your self-inflicted sorrows, I would not turn you from my bed."

Morrigan's eyes traveled over the length of his body as she said these last words, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue as she met his gaze again and shot him a predatory smile that sent a jolt of pure lust shooting through him. He was disgusted and rather ashamed by his sudden arousal, yet hardly surprised by it. Morrigan was a beautiful woman and it had been far too long since he last had sex. But as intrigued as he was by her offer, he knew better than to accept it. If he were to take her now he would be thinking of Falcon the entire time. He couldn't do that to her or to himself…no matter how tempted he might be. He growled and shoved her hard against the cold stone wall, more out of his own frustration than any anger he harbored. She laughed a husky, sensuous laugh that sent another bolt of desire straight to his groin. He abruptly let her go and crossed the room in the attempt to put as much distance as possible between them.

"What is it that you want, Morrigan? Surely you didn't come here just to get a rise out of me…and if you did…well, then you succeeded admirably. Just…go. Leave me alone to my misery."

"Is it I that is leaving or is it you?" she asked, her head tilting to one side as she glanced at the satchel on the bed behind him.

"That is none of your business," he growled, as he took up his pacing once again.

"It is when you tempt fate," Morrigan snapped, her demeanor turning deadly serious. "Know this…if you leave now, she will most assuredly die."

Anders froze, his face draining of all its color.

"How could you possibly know that?" he asked, eyes narrowing at her.

"'Tis easy enough to see if one is looking in the right direction. The darkspawn shall not wait forever. When they strike it will be when it's least expected, and in greater numbers than you can fathom. She _needs_ you."

"No she doesn't," Anders replied sadly. "She has Howe…the other wardens as well. Whether I am here or not will make little difference in the end."

"Without your presence she will fall…they will _all_ fall, and without the wardens the darkspawn will destroy everything in their path. Is that what you want?"

"Velanna can heal just as well as—"

"But she's not _you," _Morrigan interrupted. "She hasn't your skill or knowledge, nor does she have the same trust Falcon places in _you_. She needs more than a healer…she needs someone she can count on. She needs a friend."

"Don't you get it? _She doesn't want me!"_ Anders practically bellowed as his anger began to boil over.

"So what?"

"Excuse me?"

"So. What? This has nothing to do with your petty jealousies. We're talking about her _life_, mage. Did you spend all this time healing her only to stand back and watch her die?"

"Oh, and you did any better?" he asked as a cruel smile twisted his lips. "Falcon told me all about you…about what you are…and what you did. One of the legendary witch of the wilds…more like _bitch_ of the wilds if you ask me. A cruel, conniving, heartless retch that is just as remorseless in her actions as she is morally and emotionally uninhibited. You _betrayed_ her trust and it nearly led to her death. How are you any better than me?"

Anders saw a brief flash of something that might have been hurt in Morrigan's eyes and immediately felt guilty. It wasn't like him to be this cruel, even when goaded. Perhaps he had gone a little too far. As little as he knew or cared about Morrigan she had still saved their lives. Any charitable thoughts, however, were forgotten with the woman's next words.

"Better to be a heartless bitch than a sniveling, cowardly buffoon who would rather run from his problems than to face them like a man," she said in a cold hard voice, eyes narrowing until they were barely more than slits. "Perhaps I misjudged you after all."

"Get out," he whispered in barely contained fury.

"Gladly," she retorted before turning on her heal to leave. She stopped in the open doorway and shot a scathing glance back at him, chin raised in haughty insolence as her eyes snapped in quiet fury. "I came here merely to warn you," she said, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Heed my words or ignore them, 'tis a decision you alone can make."

And with that she disappeared, leaving Anders to stew over her words.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42 - Misery**

Nate's promised "later" would have to wait until much _much_ later, to Alyx's everlasting chagrin. As it turned out, being unconscious for such a lengthy time did little for the constitution, a fact that established itself upon her first attempt to stand. Luckily Zevran had been there to catch her when her legs buckled beneath her weight; otherwise she would have become far more acquainted with the gaudy Orlesian rug than she ever wanted to be.

"You know, there are easier ways of telling me that you are falling for me, my dear," Zevran had said with a flirtatious wink as he gently helped her back into bed. Alyx had laughed with him; pleased that despite everything that had recently happened, at least _their_ relationship had remained unchanged. It was more than she could say for the state of her relationship with Anders.

_Well, at least he's talking to me…sort of, _she thought wryly after he left her rooms the next morning. When Anders hadn't come to see her that first day she'd begun to worry that she'd irrevocably damaged her relationship with him. Then she had awakened to the sight of him lounging in a chair by the hearth reading a book, quite like she had after her poison-induced coma. So much had changed since then, which was more than evident in the strained conversation they shared as he deftly checked her vitals with nimble, practiced movements. Her heart ached at the marked difference in his demeanor, but as much as it hurt she found solace, however small, in the fact that he still cared enough to make sure she was healing properly. It would have to be enough…at least for now, though she hoped with time he would not only understand her decisions but come to peace with them, and with her. Of course she wasn't naive enough to believe that things could ever go back to the way they were, but she could still hope, right?

Happiness never comes without price, or so it always seemed from her experience; and despite her crumbling friendship and the added annoyance of being bed-ridden, she _was_ happy. Deliriously so. Her heart was practically bursting with all the giddiness that always seemed to come at the start of a new relationship. She smiled like a fool every time she thought of Nate and actually had to stop herself a time or two from laughing outright, lest she scare someone with her odd behavior. It was as if she were a starry-eyed lass again, basking in the glow of first love. Alyx giggled at the thought. After all, Nate _had_ been her first love. How remarkable that after everything they'd been through she would end up right back where she started.

"Commander. It's good to see you finally awake," a familiar voice rumbled from the open doorway, interrupting the flow of her thoughts.

"Varel! Come in," Alyx cooed, a warm smiled wreathing her lips in greeting as she gestured to the chair conveniently placed by the bedside. "I was wondering if you would come see me. Tell me, for Andraste's sake, that you have something that needs to be done. "

Varel cocked his head and then barked with laughter when her words, added to the pleading look on her face, finally began to sink in.

"I never thought to see the day that you begged me for paperwork, Commander," he said as he took a seat.

"Nor did I, but I never thought to be trapped to my bed _again_ now did I?"She replied with a smirk. "_Please_ Varel, I'm desperate for a distraction."

"I would, my Lady, but I've already been warned against disturbing you with such matters until you've regained your strength," Varel said with a sympathetic smile.

_"Anders," _Alyx hissed underneath her breathe, inwardly seething at his audacity. _Bloody know-it-all mage! How dare he go behind my back! Note to self: Kill Anders for being far too meddlesome for his own good,_ she thought to herself.

Something of her frustration must have shown on her face, for she heard Varel laugh, though he tried to cover it with a cough.

"I wouldn't be too angry with him, Commander. As your healer he is understandably concerned about your well-being, as are we all, truth be told. You gave us quite the scare…but you must forgive my informality. If you wish I can bring you your personal correspondence, it has been piling up since you were last at the Vigil. Everything else, I assure you, has been taken well in hand."

"Come now, Varel. You needn't stand on ceremony with me, especially when it's just the two of us. I thought you would've learned that by now," Alyx said with a cheeky grin that widened when the Seneschal's face flushed red.

"Of course, my apologies my…er…Falcon. It is merely a force of habit."

"After working for the likes of Rendon Howe I could hardly be surprised," she murmured in return.

"As you say, Commander," Varel replied with an acknowledging dip of his head and a mischievous smile as a look of understanding passed between them.

"Well, now that we've commenced with the pleasantries…why don't you tell me why you're _really_ here," Alyx said with a meaningful look as she demurely folded her hands in her lap and shot him a look that would have made her mother proud. Varel looked abashed by her words and countenance, and then abruptly guilty, piquing her interest even further. The Keep's Seneschal was a little gruff to be sure, but he was never one to be so evasive. _Hmm, interesting, _she thought as she tried not to smile when his face turned and interesting shade of purple while he attempted to explain.

"I must confess that inquiring after your health…wasn't my only reason for visiting you today," he began. "Do you remember my daughter Elaina?"

"Is she the one that wants to run away with the Orlesian circus, the painter, or the one who's sweet on Captain Garavel?" Alyx said with a wicked grin.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Varel groaned and shook his head.

Alyx couldn't help but laugh. It had been more than a little surprising to learn that not only was the Senechal a father of five but that they were all girls, each with the same fiery red hair (and temperament) as their mother. To imagine the serious, ever-practical Varel with such an unruly brood was shocking to say the least, but it _had_ gone a long way to explaining his seemingly endless patience, and had ultimately earned both him and his wife Alyx's unconditional respect.

"Elaina's my eldest…though I can't blame you for confusing the lot of them. I sometimes have a hard time of it myself," Varel continued with a warm chuckle. "She's to be wed in a few weeks time."

"But that's wonderful news! Who's the lucky groom?"

"One of the guardsmen here at the Vigil…Thomas is his name. He's young but he's a bright lad. Has quite the promising career ahead of him, or so I've been told."

"Then what's the problem?" Alyx asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"No problem really it's just that…well, you see, Commander…"

"Come on then, spit it out man!"

"Right," Varel said with a deep sigh. "Andraste knows all my girls have spirit, but Elaina has always been the most mild-mannered of my daughters. Sweet and modest, she never gave us cause to worry, even as a child. She's not afraid to speak her mind, mind you, but she has always been the genuine sort, ready to offer a helping hand without ever expecting a thing in return. She sometimes reminds me of you, Commander…if you pardon my saying so. At any rate, when she and Thomas told us of their intentions she asked for little beyond our blessing, but there is one thing she does want. You see, she would like for you to attend the wedding, if you're willing and still in residence, of course."

"Me? Why would she want _me_ there? We hardly know each other!" Alyx asked in surprise.

"I know, Commander, and have told her so myself, but she wanted me to ask nonetheless. It seems you've made quite the impression on her. To hear her tell it you are the epitome of beauty and grace, and of everything a noblewoman _should_ be. She looks up to you, as do all my daughters. Besides, who wouldn't want to have the Hero of Fereldan in attendance at their wedding?" Varel supplied with a sly grin.

Alyx groaned and rolled her eyes, producing yet another chuckle from the Seneschal.

"I take it you're not fond of the title?" he asked in bemusement.

"I hate it," she grumbled. "I wish people would stop calling me that. I'm not a hero. I'm just a girl who was lucky enough to survive when so many others didn't."

"Is that what you really think?" Varel asked, his expression falling.

"Think about it Varel. If I was the hero everybody makes me out to be, would I still be sitting here today?" she asked with a sad smile. "It seems everybody keeps forgetting that it was Alistair who killed the Archdemon, not I. He is the true hero…but you didn't come here to listen to me gripe. You may tell your daughter that I'll gladly accept her invitation on one condition…that I be allowed to supply the provisions for the festivities afterwards."

"I…that is very generous of you, Commander," Varel said in surprise.

"Think nothing of it," she replied with a wave of her hand. "Have Elaina come up for tea tomorrow afternoon. I would like to go over some specifics…and to get to know her better, if it would please her."

"She'll be over the moon for sure, Commander," Varel replied, looking both grateful and relieved. "Thank you, truly. She would have asked you herself but was afraid it might be too impertinent to do so. It means the world to me to be able to grant her this, at least."

"You serve the Vigil well, my friend. To ensure the happiness of you and yours is the least I can do in return."

Varel nodded and stood to take his leave. When he reached the door he stopped and turned to look back at her.

"You _are_ a hero, my Lady Falcon, never doubt that," he said, his voice rough with some deep emotion. "And I've never been more honored to serve anyone as I serve you and the Order. Blood to blood, Commander…even if I am not a Warden myself."

"Thank you, my friend," Alyx replied, doing her best not to tear up at this unexpected vote of confidence. "Though you might as well consider yourself and honorary member of the Grey. You already know most of our secrets anyway."

Varel smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgment and then turned and left her alone to her thoughts. Immediately Alyx began planning out the wedding feast in her mind. A wedding was just what the people needed right now, to remind them that despite the hardships they faced life did continue on, and that happiness could be found even in the darkest of times. It would give everyone the chance to forget their troubles if only for a day, but a day without death, destruction and darkspawn. Yes, she had big plans for the wedding celebration, but she would not move forward without the bride's consent. It was Elaina's big day after all, not her own, but if she was willing and Alyx had her way, it would certainly be a day to remember.

Highever weddings were always considerable affairs, attended by everyone in the region from the lowliest peasant to the Teryn himself. There would be feasting and dancing, singing and drinking and sometimes even extravagant fetes that lasted two or three days… depending on the size of the family's pocketbook of course. When Fergus and Oriana had married their parents had hosted a two-day tourney followed by a parade and a full day of feasting. Of course Alyx had neither the funds nor the time to host such an elaborate event herself, but it was still her hope to bring something of the tradition to the Vigil.

Alyx was suddenly very eager to meet with Elaina. She wanted to begin the preparations immediately, for there would be much to do. Lucky for her, until she was well enough to return to her duties she would have more than enough time to plan. _Things are certainly looking up_, she thought as she settled herself back against her pillows. Arranging the festivities not only gave her something to do it gave her something to look forward to. It also presented her with the motivation she needed to get her back on her feet, for nothing was going to stop her from dancing with Nate at the wedding celebration. _Things are looking up indeed._

* * *

Three days later Alyx was ready to tear her hair out. Typically she would have found something to busy herself with in order to forget her frustrations (i.e. throwing herself into her work, beating the living piss out of something…which, fortunately for her, often coincided with each other), but therein lay the crux of her problem. Here they were, about to face Maker knows what against the darkspawn and she couldn't so much as go to the privy without asking for assistance. She hated feeling so weak, and she absolutely despised being trapped in her bed like some damned invalid. It was like she was a foreigner in her own body…or a prisoner. It didn't help that she was rarely afforded time to herself despite everyone's insistence that she needed to rest. There always seemed to be someone hanging about her rooms, whether it be a servant, a curious well-wisher, or whichever of her friends just so happened to be "assigned" to her for the day. Of course they didn't know that she was on to them, but as much as it frustrated her she knew they had her best interests at heart. Besides, there was little she could do about it. Anders had insisted that she remain on bed rest for the time being (at the threat of chaining her to the bed if necessary) and as loathe as she was to admit it, she hadn't the strength to do more than pout about it.

Only Zevran seemed to understand her need for movement. He would appear every day (once everyone else was otherwise occupied) just to walk with her around her rooms, offering his support whenever it was needed. Alyx had been disheartened at first at how quickly she tired, but as the days passed she found herself able to walk longer and further before having to rely on his strength. Zev, for his part, endured their sessions patiently; never once complaining when she lost her footing or had to stop and catch her breath. She sometimes wondered why he bothered at all, and had even asked him as much. After all, there was nothing to be gained from helping her, but he had simply shrugged and said, "Why not?" as he flashed her that all-too familiar grin. She knew there was more to it than that but pushing the issue would only result in his balking completely (which would truly be a shame, for she was thoroughly enjoying having him around again).

By the end of the week Alyx had improved but was still trapped in her rooms for the most part. She sighed as she waited for Anders to stop by, as was his habit at this time of the morning. She'd been up for what seemed like hours already and had picked up a book to distract herself, but instead of reading she found herself staring out the window, her book forgotten in her lap. Her thoughts kept flitting back to Anders and his troublesome behavior these past few days.

She'd been wrong to think that he was as unaffected by her actions as he seemed to be at first. Yes, he still came to see her, but his visits were always brief and strictly clinical in nature. He would perform a quick examination then leave just as quickly, never speaking to her unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then his answers were often short and abrupt to the point that she often winced at the harsh staccato of his words. Alyx had tried to draw him out but was met with very little success. In fact her attempts seemed to backfire, causing him to withdraw even further into himself. In short, she was worried about him.

A soft knock heralded the arrival of the very person she'd been thinking about…or so she thought until the door swung open and she saw that it was Velanna standing on the other side, not Anders as she assumed.

"Velanna. What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

"I was told to see how you are mending," Velanna said as she hastily crossed to the bed and placed a hand to her forehead.

"Where is Anders?"

"How should I know?" Velanna snapped peevishly.

"Did he not ask you to come in his stead?" Alyx asked, confused.

"In a matter of speaking," Velanna replied with a snort. "He sent me a _note_. Apparently he feels that since you are on the mend and in no immediate need of his 'particular abilities' that his attention would be better employed elsewhere."

_Ouch, _Alyx thought with an inward wince.

"As if I can't heal just as well as him," Velanna continued. "If you ask me he's off somewhere sulking like the annoying, self-centered shem that he is…hey! Where do you think you are going?"

"I have to find him, Velanna," Alyx said as she threw off her blankets and climbed out of the bed.

"Anders-Nathaniel-Nathaniel-Anders. Creators but I'll never understand you humans! Can't you ever make up your minds?" Velanna grumbled as she watched Alyx precariously cross the room to the armoire.

"I _have_ made up my mind," Alyx replied as she pulled on her robe and cinched it tightly around her waist. "Just because I'm with Nate now doesn't mean I'm no longer friends with Anders. If you know where he is please tell me. He's hurting, Velanna, and it is my fault. I have to talk to him…try to fix things between us if I can. "

Velanna shot Alyx a speculative look as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Several heavy moments passed before the elven woman finally sighed as if in defeat.

"I might have seen him walking towards the library after breakfast," she reluctantly offered.

"Thank you," Alyx whispered, a wide grin spreading across her face as she briefly squeezed Velanna's arm and turned to shuffle out the door.

"No. Stop. Don't go," Velanna called after her in a strangely monotone voice. Alyx turned and arched an eyebrow at her in question, but Vellanna simply shrugged. "It's none of my business if you kill yourself wandering after that ungrateful buffoon, but if anyone asks I can truthfully tell them I tried to stop you." And with that Velanna sauntered past her and out the door. Alyx inwardly shrugged and headed in the opposite direction down the hallway.

The walk from the private sector to the Vigil's library was not necessarily a long one but to Alyx it might as well have been a trek to the other side of Thedas. By the time she reached the main part of the Keep her legs had begun to shake with fatigue and she'd become acutely aware of her state of dress, or lack thereof as it was. Open looks of surprise and curiosity followed her progress, though she could hardly blame the lot of them for staring. No doubt she looked a fright, shuffling along in nothing but her nightshift and robe, her hair hanging loose and sleep-rumpled around her face. She wouldn't be surprised if the castle staff mistook her for the spirit of some long dead Avvar woman forever doomed to wander the Vigil's halls…or that they thought she had completely taken leave of her senses. Either way, she was not about to turn around now. Not when she'd already come so far.

Alyx was never so glad when she finally reached her destination. She leaned against the door-jam to rest and sighed in contentment as she was greeted by the scent of old leather and parchment. It was a familiar smell and one that had always reminded her of her father's library back at Highever Castle. She would spend hours there as a child, running ruddy fingers over leather-bound volumes as she wandered from bookshelf to bookshelf, or curled up in one her father's favorite overstuffed armchairs, immersed in whatever adventure story that struck her fancy at the time. There, too, she had taken her lessons with the old castle historian, Master Aldous, who loved to make her recite Fereldan history by rote (while he pretended not to nod off in some comfortable corner of the room). They were bittersweet memories of a far simpler time, but memories that she held close to her heart nonetheless.

A plaintive mew interrupted her thoughts and she looked up just in time to see a familiar furry head poke out from behind the corner.

"Hello lad," Alyx cooed as Ser-Pounce-a-Lot padded towards her. She was surprised at how much the tabby had grown since she had found him wandering the Vigil's courtyard alone. It was no wonder Anders had stopped bringing him along on their missions. He was unlikely to fit in his satchel anymore. "A proper tom now, are we?" she murmured as she tried to bend down to pet him, but her legs gave way from overuse and she landed on the floor with a soft thud. She humphed once in irritation and then shrugged as she pulled the cat into her lap. "You wouldn't know where your master is, hmm?" she asked as she scratched him behind the ears, but Pounce only stared at her with large, curious yellow eyes.

"Falcon?" Anders voice floated out from behind a set of heavy oak bookshelves a moment before he came into view. "What are you—how did you get here?"

"I walked of course, goose," she teased as she lifted her hands in silent request. Anders helped her to her feet but her legs were still a little wobbly from the walk and she swayed into him before she could stop herself. She didn't miss the way his body immediately stiffened at the contact and she closed her eyes in a silent call for patience.

"Andraste's flaming sword, woman, you shouldn't be out of bed let alone walking clear across the castle unattended. You could have hurt yourself!"

"Honestly, after everything we've been through you'd think you all would have a little more faith in me," she grumbled as she let him help her to a chair.

Anders sighed and ran a hand over his tousled blonde hair as he sat down across from her. At first he just stared at her, hazel eyes filled with concern, but there was also a bone-deep weariness there that she could understand all-too well.

"What are you even doing down here?" he finally asked.

"I came to find you, actually," she began. "Anders…we need to talk."

"Look, if this is about this morning—"

"This has nothing to do with Velanna," Alyx interrupted. Anders snapped his mouth closed and abruptly looked away.

"There is nothing more to say," he said as he continued to stare across the room, the minute twitching of a muscle in his jaw the only indication of his feelings.

"I know you're upset and you have every right to be, but you have to know…I _need_ you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. You have become a dear friend, Anders, and it wounds me to see you suffering so."

Anders remained still but she could see the emotions battling in his eyes and her heart ached for him. _Please say something, _she silently pleaded.

"You should have told me," he said after awhile.

"You're right."

"That's it…_you're right?"_ Anders growled as he finally looked at her.

"What is it that you expect me to say?" Alyx fumed. "I'm only human, Anders! I was scared and weak and emotionally confused. At the time I thought that maintaining a neutral stance was the _only_ sensible choice. I never thought that I would only be making it worse."

"And? Were you _ever_ planning on telling me or were you just going to stay silent forever?"

"Does it matter?" Alyx snapped. She sighed as he looked away again and the fight abruptly drained from her. "What's done is done. There's no going back, nor would it change anything even if we could. You are my _friend_, Anders, and nothing more. Any relationship between us would only end in heartbreak. Can you not see that?" she asked. When he didn't respond she continued on. "I know it doesn't seem like it now but you'll see by-and-by when you fall for someone else that this is what's best…for the both of us."

"You haven't hurt me really," Anders said with a long-suffering sigh. "I…it was only my own foolishness…to believe that you might ever love someone like me."

"Someone like you?"

"An apostate."

"Oh, Anders! That has nothing to do with it! And I _do_ love you; I'm just not _in_ love with you. Do you understand?"

Anders head had snapped up at her words but he looked crestfallen once he let them sink in. He nodded once in answer and stood, offering her his hand as he attempted to smile.

"Come on then, let's get you back to your room," he said, abruptly ending the conversation. He carefully helped her out of the chair and then wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Anders…I know I don't have any right to ask, but could you perhaps take me up to the battlements instead?"

"The battlements? Why on Thedas would you want to go all the way up there?"

"I haven't been outdoors in weeks. I need fresh air, Anders, before I go stark raving mad. I'm not dressed for the courtyard and it's the only other place I can think of where I won't be seen. Please?"

"Fine," Anders replied reluctantly as he bent to swing her up into his arms but Alyx relented.

"I can walk if you would just let me lean on you for a time," she insisted. Anders groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You have to be the most stubborn woman I have ever met," he grumbled, but allowed her to take his arm instead as they walked out of the library and down the hallway.

By the time they reached the roof Alyx's muscles were screaming but she considered the trip a small victory nonetheless. Breathing heavily, she clung to the nearest wall and pressed a cheek to the cool stone, reveling in the feel of it against her heated skin as her racing heart slowly began to calm. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply of the warm, moist air as a pleasant breeze brushed past them, lifting sweaty tendrils of hair from her forehead. It was an overcast day but when Alyx opened her eyes the sun had poked its head out just enough to throw rays of light and color dancing across the sky in spectacular relief. She nearly choked on the emotion that overtook her in that singular moment. Such beauty was a gift from the Maker himself, and the sight of it left her breathless. To think that she might never have gotten the chance to experience something like this ever again…that's when it truly hit her. She'd nearly died and some part of her had wanted it. Now, looking out over the Arling of Amaranthine…_her_ Amaranthine…she wanted nothing more than life. She wanted to live again; _truly_ live instead of the half-life she'd confined herself to since Alistair's death, and the realization was overwhelming. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Ah, I recognize that look," Anders said as he stopped next to her. "The Circle used to allow harrowed mages outside every once and a while for a little exercise and fresh air…carefully supervised by the templars, of course. I very nearly cried when I saw the sky for the first time since being taken to the tower. It had been years…I had nearly forgotten what it was like," he explained, his expression poignant, his gaze distant as he reminisced. "In that moment I vowed to myself that I would find a way to be free again."

Alyx wanted to comfort him but she knew there was nothing that could be said. The Order might offer many things, but freedom? How many times had she, herself felt trapped by her circumstances?

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she clasped his hand.

He didn't balk as she thought he would. Instead he glanced down at their conjoined hands and then back up at her face, his hazel eyes searching hers for something she didn't quite comprehend until it was too late. She gasped when Anders pulled her close and crushed his mouth against hers before she could pull away. At first she decided she would let him have his stolen kiss. At the very least he would see that there was nothing between them. She never expected to find her arms weaving around his neck to pull him closer, and she certainly never expected to kiss him back, but it was almost impossible not to with him pouring his heart and soul into this one final, passionate act of desperation.

"You're a liar," he gasped between deep breaths of air when he finally pulled away.

"Anders—"

"You can't tell me you feel nothing for me…not after that," he said as he grabbed her upper arms and shook her once, gently.

"I feel for you Anders," she whispered, her body trembling as tears started to stream down her face.

"Then _why?_ Why him and not me?" he begged, his voice shaking as his grip tightened around her arms.

"Anders, please—"

"WHY Falcon? Please, for the love of the Maker, tell me why—"

"Because I love him!" She cried, startling herself with her own words. "I love him…" she repeated breathlessly, as if not quite believing what she'd just said.

Alyx had known for some time now that she was in love with Nate but this was the first time she had said the words out loud. It was unnerving and yet somehow liberating to finally be able to admit it, but it was also painful to see Anders' face contort with anguish and his shoulders slump in defeat.

"We can't choose who we love," she whispered to him as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Anders turned from out of her grasp and hung his head in misery, but it didn't take him long to collect himself again. He took a deep breath and turned back to face her, and even flashed an exasperated half-smile.

"Come on then," he said softly as he scooped her up and, without another word, carried her all the way back to her rooms.

Anders gently placed her on the bed and settled the blankets around her legs. He leaned down to situate the pillows for her but dropped his arm when she caught his eye.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked carefully.

"Anything," she replied with an encouraging smile.

"You told me once that if I ever wished to leave that I could do so without reprisal. Would you hold to that if I asked it of you?"

"I…of course," she responded with a smile, though her heart had dropped clear down to her toes. Did he really mean to leave?

Anders nodded and straightened to his full height, but when he turned to go Alyx began to panic.

"Anders, I…when will you leave?" she asked and then mentally slapped herself in the forehead.

Anders sighed and glanced up at the ceiling before walking back to the bedside. She swallowed hard when his expression turned cold and his eyes became hard and unforgiving.

"I didn't ask for this life, Commander. I never wanted it, and I can't pretend as the others do…not any more. I made you a promise once and I mean to keep it. I would see this through to the end, but once this is over…once the Architect and the Mother are no longer a threat…"

Alyx nodded slowly in understanding. He didn't need to finish for her to grasp the full meaning of his words. Some deep emotion passed across Anders' face before he turned and walked away. He hesitated at the door, fists pumping open and closed as he struggled with some internal part of himself.

"You were wrong you know," he finally said, his voice barely breaking above a whisper. "There will never be another…not for me." And with that he walked out the door without so much as a glance behind him.

Alyx clutched at her throat as she watched him leave, feeling as if someone had just punched her in the chest. She wanted to call him back, to beg him not to go, but she remained frozen in place; unable to move or speak lest she fall to pieces completely. She felt the tears prick the back of her eyes but they refused to fall, just as her mind refused to move past the fact that he was going to leave her. It might not be today or tomorrow for that matter, but someday soon the day would come and she would be forced to watch yet another of her friends leave her life forever.

_What have I done? _She asked herself miserably. _Please Anders. Please Don't go. _

* * *

***Muse Tunes: **_"I'm in Here" by Sia, "Awaken" by Dario Marianelli (Jane Eyre 2011 OST), "Walkaway" by Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black OST), and "Belong" by the Cary Brothers._


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43 – Growing Pains**

After her confrontation with Anders, Alyx unceremoniously put her foot down. No matter her weakness she knew the time for convalescence had passed. That she had found the strength to wander the halls of the Vigil alone and unaided just to find the stubborn mage was proof enough in her mind that she was ready to instigate a more invasive method of rehabilitation. Whether or not the others agreed with her was entirely another matter, but under the circumstances they had little choice but to acquiesce to her wishes.

Reports of darkspawn activity had suddenly and quite drastically fallen off since their return to the Vigil, a fact that had not gone unnoticed. To the common folk it was a welcome reprieve; to the Wardens it was more than a little disquieting. Something was brewing, something big. If there was to be any hope of survival they would need their Commander in fighting form, the sooner the better for everyone concerned. Perhaps that was why no one argued…much….when she refused to be confined to her rooms for another day.

Even so, Alyx knew better than to push herself too far too fast, having been through the recovery process many times before. She started off small, simply by resuming her meals in the dining hall with the others rather than having them delivered to her. She continued her afternoon strolls, but quickly expanded them beyond the four walls of her chambers to include the rest of the Keep. Her companions would take turns walking with her for an hour or two every day, and soon she was able to reach any part of the Vigil's grounds without their assistance. Before long her walks turned into light training sessions, which in turn transformed into full out sparring matches as her strength and stamina returned to her. It was grueling work and utterly exhausting, but she couldn't help but feel a certain amount of pride as little by little, she improved. Indeed, she saw every day as a fresh challenge, met with its own set of trials and tribulations, and every night when she fell into bed it was with a spark of anticipation for the new day to come. This, she knew, was in no small part due to the overwhelming support of her friends, who took it upon themselves to ensure her full and swift recovery, no matter the cost to their own health or personal concerns.

One week passed and then another. Before she knew it the day of Elaina's wedding was upon them.

Alyx smoothed out the lines in the material of her dress as she stared at her reflection in the gilded, full-length mirror in her bedroom, cocking her head first to one side then the other in silent determination. It had been weeks since her narrow brush with death and though she could not refute the vast improvement of her condition, she hardly recognized the woman in the crystalline glass. Cautious fingers slid across the cool, smooth surface of the mirror, fingertip to fingertip with her likeness as she studied the changes wrought within the familiar plains of her face. She had yet to regain the weight she had lost over the course of her illness, the proof which lay within the gauntness of her cheeks and the tell-tale looseness of her clothing. It left her looking decidedly pale and delicate, like the noblewomen she always despised and her mother had vainly hoped she would one day emulate. Yet despite this distasteful guise of fragility she found there to be a curious gleam in her eyes and a subtle yet undeniable glow to her skin she knew had nothing to do with her returning health. No, it wasn't the mere physical aspect that left her feeling like she was looking at a stranger. It was something greater; something that went further than skin deep. She found neither the spoiled girl nor the hardened Warden-Commander in the depths of the cerulean gaze that stared back at her from out of the looking glass. Once again she was changed. She smiled to herself; a small, enigmatic smile as her thoughts flitted to the cause of this most recent transformation and her heart reflexively fluttered in response.

_Nathaniel, _it whispered fervently.

He had proven himself to be far more than her saving grace. He had become her rock, her comfort and the primary source of her happiness over the difficult weeks following Flemeth's attack. Without him she very well might have given up to despair; without him she might have ceased to exist. Perhaps he sensed this, for he was never very far from her side. Alyx smiled again, thinking how ironic life could be. There was a time she might have been distracted, even irritated by such a show of attachment but now…now she could not help but feel comforted by his steady, stalwart company. In truth, the times she relished the most were the rare moments when they were alone together.

In the presence of others Nate was the cool, composed gentleman she had come to expect. Furthermore, he was nothing if not unfailingly proper, a fact she chalked up to breeding but left their companions noticeably perplexed. Indeed, there wasn't a day that passed that Sigrun or Oghren didn't shoot her a questioning look, or that Zevran didn't ask her if they'd 'done it yet' (to her everlasting chagrin). If Nate noticed their behavior he never commented on it. Instead he continued to act as he was wont to, but when the others were absent his reserve would fall away to reveal the truth behind the stony mask they had long become accustomed to.

Alyx learned more about him in those quiet moments than she had over the course of their entire acquaintance. Every day brought forth some new, intriguing facet of his personality, and she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever truly known him in the first place. He was just so…_different_ when they were alone; almost as if he was another person entirely. She never knew that he could be so light-hearted, even playful if the mood struck him. He also had a surprising sense of humor and an easy charm which, when used effectively, would put even poor Teagan to shame. Then, of course, there were the elements of his character that she had known about but failed to see at their full scope…

For instance, she had not been surprised by his extensive knowledge of Fereldan history and of the laws he would have been expected to uphold as the heir to his Father's lands…but it had never occurred to her he might be well versed in foreign customs and culture as well. Not only that, but she learned that he was fluent in several languages, including Orlesian and Antivan.

That he was her intellectual equal was hardly surprising. Indeed, she had ever considered him to be a clever man….but she _was_ astounded by his ability to recall information and events with perfect clarity, even if they had occurred months or even _years_ beforehand.

It was astonishing, just how much of his personality Nate had managed to keep hidden from the rest of them, though whether it was intentional or purely out of habit was still unclear. For all Alyx knew it was just another characteristic yet to be deciphered. Still, she could hardly blame him for keeping to himself. Privacy was a rare commodity in their position, especially to a man who had every reason to be distrusting of others. That she alone had been allowed to see the more personal side of this deeply intelligent and passionate man made her feel absurdly privileged; like she was privy to some deeply- guarded secret. It pleased her more than she could say.

The more she learned of him the more Alyx fell in love with him. She desperately wanted to tell him so but worried that it was still too early in their relationship for such a significant admission. Once the words were said there would be no taking them back, and she wasn't willing to tempt fate just yet. Everything was still too new, too fresh. There was no sense in rushing things between them. Although… she could not deny that it was becoming harder and harder not to, especially at the end of the evening when Nate would walk her to her chambers.

Every night was the same. They would walk together in comfortable silence, his hand sliding into hers only after they entered the private sector where the Wardens alone resided. Once they reached her door he would lean in to whisper his farewells and then gently kiss her goodnight. Each kiss was more searing than the last, leaving her breathless and desperate for more. She knew that it affected him just as deeply and yet every night without fail he would leave her alone and aching for him.

She wasn't stupid. She knew why he denied her need as well as his own, but that hadn't stopped her from foolishly feeling rejected (not to mention frustrated) every time he walked away from her. It was maddening, this incredible need for him, and as much as she knew that it was for her sake that he absconded, her patience was swiftly wearing thin.

"Enter," Alyx called absentmindedly at the soft knock at her bedroom door and smiled as the very reason for her distraction appeared in the doorway.

Nate was fidgeting with the collar of his new doublet as he stepped inside Alyx's room but immediately froze when he saw her gazing at him in the reflection of the mirror, her eyes dancing with silent mirth. His eyes roamed over the graceful lines of her petite form and his throat instantly went dry. He had seen her in everything from a torn, blood-stained shift to a simple yet tasteful gown, but he had never seen her look quite as beautiful as she did now. She wore a rich burgundy kyrtle intricately embroidered around the hemline and bodice in a stitching that matched the deep plum of the gossamer surcote draped over the heavier fabric. This was secured by a modest gold brooch clasped just beneath her breasts, allowing the gauzy material to fall away and expose the material beneath. The vibrant colors of the gown complimented her pale skin and dark hair to perfection. In that instant she looked so much like her mother that Nate was filled with a sudden, poignant sense of nostalgia…and yet he never remembered having such trouble breathing around Eleanor Cousland as he seemed to have when in the presence of her daughter.

"Well now! Don't we clean up well," Alyx called, her eyes shining with appreciation as she took in his polished boots, dark breeches and forest green doublet.

"Anything to please my Lady," he replied with a smirk as he pressed a kiss to the slender curve where her shoulder and collarbone met. He relished the shiver that coursed through her body at his touch and had to stifle a purely masculine chuckle at the delightful color that infused her cheeks.

"Then you will be glad to know you've succeeded," she murmured as she looked back at him over her shoulder and winked.

This time he could not help the laugh that escaped his lips.

"So _now_…tell me Ser Howe, am I presentable?" she asked as she spun in a circle for his perusal.

"Hmm," he hummed as he rubbed his chin in mock-consideration. "You'll do, _but_—" he continued, raising his hand when she opened her mouth to argue. "I can't help but feel as if something were missing."

"Missing?" she repeated, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Mmm, yes. Something no Lady should be without on such an occasion," he murmured into her ear as he gently turned her back to face the mirror.

Alyx gasped as she felt the cool metal of a chain slide across her skin to settle around her neck. As if of their own volition her fingers reached up to briefly clutch the necklace against her chest as he secured the clasp at her nape. When her hand finally fell away Nate could see the precious gemstones in the gold filigree settings wink lustrously in the soft candlelight. It was hardly the most ostentatious piece, consisting of only three oval-shaped settings strung between a double-strand of braided gold. However each setting showcased a brilliant-cut ruby roughly the size of his thumb.

"Oh Nate, it's beautiful!" Alyx breathed.

"You have improved it," he replied nonchalantly as his hands moved lightly across her shoulders to settle warmly around her forearms.

"But how did you-?"

"It was my mother's, actually. Varel rescued it from the family vault before it could be picked over. He thought it only appropriate that it be returned to me."

"Your mother's? Oh Nate, I couldn't possibly—"

"I want you to have it…as would she, given the circumstances," he replied softly.

_If only you knew why, _he silently added, his chest burning with a cherished, unspoken desire.

It was ironic, really, that of all of the jewelry in his mother's collection it would be this one in particular that would be restored to him, for she had given it to him in trust many years ago…as a bride-gift for his future wife. Nate watched as Alyx fingered the necklace in consideration and held his breath. No one save for Delilah would know of the significance behind his gift, but were Alyx to accept it…in his eyes it would mark her as his as surely as if his name were branded across her skin. If only she knew what it meant to him…but he couldn't possibly tell her. Not yet at least.

"Thank you," Alyx whispered eventually, her eyes ablaze with some profound emotion when she turned to squarely meet his gaze. His heart nearly burst with joy at those two little words, though he could not say why. It was not a profession of love…but it _was_ an acceptance, which was certainly a step in the right direction.

_Mine, _a tiny voice in his head growled as he absentmindedly traced the outline of the necklace with a callused finger, his silverite eyes darkening intently. Alyx stilled his wandering hand with her own, pressing a light kiss into his palm before bringing it up to the curve of her face. He felt the familiar tug of longing well up inside of him as he caressed her cheek and could not help the groan that escaped him when she stood on tip-toe to press her lips to his.

Nate pulled her into his arms and deepened the kiss, thrilling at the feel of her supple lips and the soft curve of her body as it melted against his. No matter how many times he kissed her it was always the same. The moment their lips met everything else around them faded until nothing and no one existed but them. He could drown in her sweetness and never resurface.

By the time they parted they were both gasping for breath, their hearts racing in heady tandem. Nate leaned his forehead against hers as he struggled to contain the desire now raging through his entire body, but it didn't help when he glanced down to see an equal measure of hunger reflected in her expressive eyes. He gasped at the sight of it and took a reluctant step back, knowing full well that if they stayed that way for even a second longer he would have her stripped and naked on the bed in record time.

Immediate disappointment flashed across Alyx's face at his withdrawal and it killed him to see it, just as it had every night over the past few weeks when he would leave her at the end of the night. Nate sighed and threw her an apologetic smile. He knew that she was just as frustrated as he; her impatience as clear in her expression as the bewilderment at his actions, but how was he to tell her the reasons behind them?

Turning from her night after night was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. He knew Alyx was a strong woman both in body and mind, but she was still healing from her confrontation with Flemeth, despite her insistent arguments to the contrary. He could not bring himself to cause her pain just to feed his own selfish needs. She deserved more than that, and so he vowed to himself that he would not lay with her until she was fully recovered. He simply could not trust himself to retain enough control in the heat of passion to be able to stop if he was hurting her. No, when he had her for the first time, there could be nothing between them but their need for each other. When they finally came together, there would be no fear, no restraint, and there would be absolutely no holding back.

Truthfully, he didn't know how much longer he was going to last. Maker knows he was a patient man, but there was only so much temptation he could take. He was only human after all. Glancing at his beloved once again he knew that it was only a matter of time before one or both of them snapped, and then there would be nothing on Thedas that could keep them from each other. It would be in that moment that he knew that their hard-won patience would not go unrewarded.

"Shall we join the others?" Nate asked eventually, once he regained his equilibrium. "They're likely beginning to wonder where we are."

"Surely they can wait a little longer," she replied seductively, a wicked grin curving her lips as she slid back into the circle of his arms to place small, feather-light kisses across the length of his jaw before gently nipping at his earlobe. Pure, unadulterated lust shot to his groin, almost as if there were a string running from his ear straight to his nethers. Nate let out a frustrated growl as he abruptly stopped her teasing ministrations. He would have laughed outright at the pout on her face if he wasn't so damned aroused.

"Temptress," he murmured as he took her mouth again in a bruising kiss.

"Hey Falcon! Get that first-class rear of yers in gear! The children are getting' antsy!" Oghren's familiar voice barreled through the door a moment before his ruddy face appeared in the entrance. Unsurprisingly, the dwarf looked as if he had already dipped into the ale reserves. "Not interrupting anything, am I? Hehe," he continued as he leered at them. "Because if I _am_ I can always leave or…ye know, stay an watch—er, just to make sure no one walks in on ye' while yer tamin' Howe's one-eyed griffon, that is."

"You are truly repulsive, do you know that?" Nate muttered.

"Aye," Oghren said on a hiccup, making a motion with his hand like he was toasting them with an invisible mug. "All in a day's work."

"Right," Nate replied as he crossed his arms and glared at the dwarf.

"We'll be right down Oghren," Alyx sighed as she ushered the dwarf back through the door before turning back to face him. "I suppose we really should join the others. Are you ready?" she asked him.

Nate nodded and gallantly offered her his arm. Alyx hesitated for only a second, but it was long enough for him to notice the pause.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his brows drawing together in confusion.

"Of course," she hedged as she took a deep breath and smiled at him. "I suppose it's just nerves."

"Nerves? What on Thedas could you possibly be nervous about? It's not like you're the one getting married today," Nate teased.

"It might not be my wedding but I did happen to have a hand in planning the festivities and I…well…" Alyx began, her voice dropping as she anxiously began to wring her hands. "This _is_ our first public appearance, Nate…as a couple I mean. The truth is...whether we're forthcoming about our relationship or not, our arrival together will not go unnoticed, regardless of how we act. I confess,I am unsure of what kind of reception we shall receive."

_And there it is, _he thought bitterly to himself. He should have guessed. Alyx's position as Arlessa was tentative at best, despite her national renown. Simply put, being seen with a Howe was bad for business.

"Right," he snapped as his spine straightened in anger. "If you'd rather I arrive separately—or perhaps not at all if you prefer…"

"What? Of course not!" she retorted in surprise, and then sudden realization spread across her face. "You think I'm embarrassed to be seen with you, don't you?" she accused. "Oh Nate, that's not it at all! My only concern was for you."

"Me?"

"Yes, _you, _you big lout!" she yelled in a brief fit of temper before her entire demeanor softened and she placed a calming hand on his arm. When she spoke again it was in a soft, soothing tone. "Let's not argue. Today is meant to be a day of celebration. We can talk about our differences later."

Nate nodded slowly in agreement and mustered up a smile for her benefit. When she beamed at him, his expression softened into a more genuine smile and once again he relaxed. Alyx was right. Today _was_ a day of celebration and he meant to spend every moment of it enjoying the company of the woman he loved, the Maker damn anyone who stood in his way.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm, and this time she took it without hesitation.

* * *

***Author's Note:**_ Instead of making excuses for the tardiness of this latest chapter I thought instead I would give some shout-outs to a few of my fellow authors with some amazing Lady Cousland fanfic. __**Cellotlix**__ has a beautiful series of Nate/Cousland stories that are well worth the read if you are a Nate fan like I am. I highly recommend at least reading __**"The Promise"**__ and __**"The Long Road"**__ (which is still in progress) in that order. I also must give a call out to two ladies who have supported both me and this story from the very beginning, and who are fabulous authors in their own right. __**Ladyamesindy **__has a fantastic Nate/Cousland story in progress called __**"Ever Constant",**__ but she also has a whole fabulous list of DA stories that you should definitely check out when you have the chance! And __**Erynnar **__is the author of a brilliant story entitled __**"Soulmates"**__ featuring the entire original DA:O cast. It is still in progress, as is its equally entertaining prequel, but if you have not had the opportunity to read it, please do! And to the both of you, thank you! Your support means a great deal to me, as well as the support of all of you other readers out there. And please, if any of you have a story you think I might like or you would like to see more callouts in the future, just drop me a message. I might just continue the trend anyway. Now, without further ado…this chapter was supposed to be longer but I've already made you guys wait far too long (my apologies by the way!), and I liked the feel of the break here, so meh (shrugs), c'est la vie! Pleeeease R&R! It makes me want to dance around the house in my underwear like Tom Cruise in Risky Business…or maybe we'll skip that and go straight to the part where I'm so giddy with joy that I immediately start working on the next chapter! ~Prose_


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44 - Something Borrowed, Something Blue**

The second they stepped out of the relative privacy of her bedchamber Nate's characteristic mask of detachment slipped back into place upon his face. Alyx felt his withdrawal even before she saw it and inwardly sighed in mild frustration. She would definitely have to break him of the habit one of these days. In the meantime, she would just have to be content with his continuing presence at her side…and perhaps a stolen kiss or two when nobody was looking. The thought had her stifling a giggle as a sort of unbidden, giddy joy bubbled up from her chest, threatening to spill past her lips. She coughed to cover her spontaneous mirth but Nate wasn't fooled by her deception for a moment. When he arched an eyebrow at her in question she smiled up at him sweetly and squeezed his arm in reassurance. Nate could only shake his head in befuddled amusement as they entered the main part of the keep.

Just as predicted, their friends and fellow Wardens were gathered and waiting for them in the great hall…all save for Morrigan and Velanna. Both had claimed to have little interest in such "garish displays of meaningless human traditions," as Velanna had put it (which was only marginally better than Morrigan's insistence that it was "just another inane ritual invented by the chantry to more effectively control their pathetic, fanatical sheep"). Alyx knew better than to try to force the issue with either woman and had, in fact, breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing their rather vehement refusals to attend the ceremony or the feast thereafter. She would have her hands full as it was keeping her other no-less colorful companions reined in let alone a pair of ill-tempered, magically-inclined bigots. Just thinking about it made her want to groan out loud. Maker knew she loved her friends but sometimes she thought it would be easier if they were, say, sheepherders instead of the bunch of outlandish, homicidal maniacs that they were.

"Ah! There you are!" Zevran called as she and Nate slowly descended the stairs, prompting every eye in the room to turn in their direction." Tsk, tsk, tsk, my dear! Did no one ever tell you it is in poor form to out-stage the bride? No one will be looking at the poor girl when there's such loveliness to behold. I am only surprised that our friend here is not upstairs ravishing you as we speak…and who could blame if he did," he continued as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and brushed a lingering kiss across her knuckles.

Alyx blushed to the roots of her hair at Zevran's well-placed quip. _Oh, If only you knew my friend, _she mused as she endeavored to regain her composure. Despite his teasing Alyx doubted the former-assassin had any idea just how close to the truth he came. After all, had Oghren not interrupted when he did…she suddenly found herself with an unreasonable amount of anger for her old friend for his lousy timing.

Nate laughed at her expression then winced when she elbowed him in the ribs. He immediately sobered but his eyes continued to dance with silent mirth as well as something deeper and far more visceral. The sight of it set her heart to racing. Had he been just as disappointed as she at their interruption? Zevran's sudden bark of laughter startled her back to the present and once again she found herself blushing. Apparently she hadn't been the only one to notice the heat of his gaze.

"Should you need help slipping away later I would be more than happy to offer you my considerable services," he added with a conspiratorial wink.

"I might just take you up on that," Nate replied as he slapped Zevran on the back good-naturedly.

"Let's just get this over with, shall we?" Anders interjected, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest as he scowled at them moodily.

"No one is forcing you to be here _mage_," Nate growled as he took an intimidating step closer. To Anders credit he neither moved nor flinched away from him. In fact he practically bristled in indignation, very much like Ser Pounce-a-Lot did when his mid-day nap was interrupted. Alyx immediately saw the danger and stepped in between the two men.

"Enough!" she commanded, shooting first Anders and then Nate a scathing look. "Today is supposed to be a day of celebration. I will not have you two making a scene!"

Alyx held her breath as Nate and Anders glared at each other, neither man looking as if they were willing to back down. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they mumbled their apologies and stepped away from each other. Alyx rolled her eyes and reminded herself to have a little patience (though it was admittedly difficult when they acted more like little boys than grown men). She only hoped that once they were back in the field Anders and Nate would be able to set aside their differences and work as a team; as the blood brothers they once claimed to be. _Perhaps I should talk to them,_ she thought, but dismissed it for the time-being. Now was not the time.

They all looked up as the chantry bells began to chime in cheerful warning to anyone that had yet to make it outside. Alyx took a quick survey of her companions and nodded once in approval. Apparently Nate had not been the only to one to invest in a new set of clothing for the occasion, and even Oghren appeared to be freshly groomed (which was one argument she wished to never repeat unless her life depended on it). Secretly she had hoped that the matching armor she'd commissioned for each member of the Order would be done in time for them to wear to the wedding, but Wade had scrapped his work in a fit of temper and started from scratch just days in advanced. Still, she had to admit that it was nice to see her men in something rather than armor…well, all of them save for Justice, who wore a full set of plate, helm and all.

Alyx smiled fondly at the spirit, who stood stiffly to one side and at a slight distance from the rest of them. The poor man looked incredibly uncomfortable and yet she could see the shimmer of excitement in his eyes. Over the course of the last few weeks she'd learned that Justice had an insatiable curiosity of the world beyond the veil, but most especially for anything regarding mortal relationships. Kristoff's memories of his wife had both confused and intrigued him, and when he'd heard about the wedding he'd all but begged to be invited. Alyx had agreed so long as he kept his helm on, and Justice had readily agreed to her terms.

"Right," she muttered to herself as she took a deep breath and turned to face the rest of the group. "Before we go I just wanted to remind you that although we may not be on duty but you are all still grey wardens and expected to act as such. Anything you do or say will reflect back on the order, so be on your upmost behavior…and yes Zev, I do realize you are not technically a warden but that includes you, too."

"Mi Amor! You wound me by insinuating that I would be anything less than discreet!" Zevran cried, making Alyx roll her eyes and Sigrun giggle.

"Just try to keep it that way, Zev," Alyx said as she tried to contain her laughter.

"Sodding rules…and here I thought we were going to a party," Oghren muttered under his breath to no one in particular.

"Can we please just get on with it?" Anders groaned in exasperation.

Alyx sighed but refused to feed in to the mage's surly mood. Again she told herself to be patient, but Anders wasn't making it easy on her. _Please let us get through this day without incident, _she silently prayed.

"Are you ready?" Nate murmured in her ear, bringing her back down to earth. Alyx took a deep breath and accepted his proffered arm with a nod and a wobbly smile.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied, hoping that she looked a little more together than she currently felt.

When they stepped outside the sun temporarily blinded her, but once she regained her vision Alyx could see that a last few stragglers were still making their way to the chantry at the far end of the compound. _At least we're not the last to arrive, _she thought with relief as she and Nate led the others across the courtyard where the rest of the wedding guests were congregated. Her spirits were buoyed by the splendor of the crystal clear sky, interrupted only by the occasional fluffy white cloud scuttling by. The weather had finally cooled to a reasonable temperature, reminding her that the harvest season was right around the corner and soon the leaves would be changing. In short, they couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day.

The Vigil's chantry was little more than a small chapel, but as it was rarely used by more than a fraction of the keep's residents at any given time it was generally large enough to suit their needs. Alyx knew that it would not become a problem until afterwards when everyone would try to squeeze into the tiny space for the traditional chant, as the ceremony itself would take place on the steps just outside. Given the size of the crowd it was unlikely everyone would be able to fit…though she seriously doubted half of them cared one way or the other so long as the wine flowed and the food was plentiful at the feast afterwards.

The crowd parted as they approached, murmuring excitedly as they took position in the place of honor, adjacent from the bride and groom's family. Alyx tried to remain nonchalant but it was impossible to ignore the speculation being bantered behind them or the open, curious stares as they passed. She had to stifle a wince when Nate suddenly stiffened beside her and she knew that he had noticed as well. When she glanced at him out of the corner her eye she could see that his jaw was set at a stubborn angle and his eyes were staring stubbornly forward.

This was exactly what she'd been afraid of. Despite his insistence that he didn't care what other people thought of him she knew Nate to be an intensely proud man. It hadn't been easy for him to be hated based solely on a name that, until recently, had been one of distinction. Given this and the trials he'd had to face since his return to Fereldan it would stand to reason that he would presume they believed the worst of him without giving him the benefit of a doubt. Perhaps even some of them did, but she wasn't about to let them dictate her relationship. She knew him for what he really was and loved him all the more for it. That was all that really mattered, wasn't it? Her thoughts returned to the argument they'd had before leaving her rooms and realized that though she'd been thinking it, she'd never actually told him as much. She promised herself that she would do so the very first chance she got.

The excitement behind them began anew as the Reverend Mother took her place just in front of the chantry doors, followed by a nervous-looking fellow she knew to be Thomas, the groom. He was tall and thin, with thick curly hair and kind brown eyes that somehow put her in mind of Hector. Elaina had introduced them a couple of weeks ago and Alyx had found him to be a steady, earnest sort with a quiet nature that balanced out his bride's vivacious personality quite nicely. _Poor lad, _she thought as she watched him shift his weight from foot to foot and anxiously fidget with his collar. Suddenly his expression changed to one of wonder and then a slow, exultant smile spread across his lips until she thought his face might split in two. She knew then that the bride must have finally arrived.

Alyx turned as appreciative murmurs and gasps went up at the sight of the Seneschal and his daughter as they passed through the crowd and up the chantry stairs. Elaina was the epitome of a blushing bride in a gown of the palest blue made of a fine, light material that seemed to float around her body as she walked. Small clutches of baby's breath had been lovingly tucked into her titian hair along with ribbons woven through the intricate braiding to match her dress and shoes to perfection. Her peaches and cream complexion had an effervescent glow to it and her eyes sparkled with utter joy as she smiled up at her groom with all the love that was in her heart. Varel, on the other hand, appeared to be just as staid and solemn as usual, though she had to admit the older man looked quite dapper in his midnight blue doublet.

When they reached their destination Varel placed Elaina's hand in Thomas's and gracefully stepped down to join his wife and other daughters at the foot of the stairs. Alyx flashed him a compassionate smile and he nodded at her in appreciation as the Reverend Mother raised her hands in a call for silence. Everyone hushed as their attention was drawn to Mother Rose-Mary, who was an affable young woman with unshakable faith and a sweet nature that often reminded Alyx of Leliana.

"Sons and daughters, I welcome you on this blessed day to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony in the sight of the Maker and his bride, Andraste," she began in a warm, welcoming voice. "It is an honorable estate, ordained by the Maker, and thus shall not be torn asunder by any man; lest he have knowledge of some impediment, why these two souls may not be united as one under the eyes of the Maker, or the laws of the realm." Here she paused and then nodded in approval when no one spoke up and continued on with the ceremony.

As the Mother spoke the traditional words, Alyx was reminded of her own wedding and how very different it had been. Hers had been a short ceremony that had taken place in the middle of the night with no witnesses save for Mother Hannah, herself and Alistair (and apparently Zevran, though she hadn't known it at the time). Looking back she conceded that the decision to marry had been a hasty one, but she never regretted it, despite the outcome. She had loved Alistair with every fiber of her being and becoming his wife was one of the greatest joys of her life. Yet she could admit there were elements of a traditional wedding she eventually mourned the loss of, later when she was able to think straight again. For one, her mother had never had the chance to host the extravagant fete that she'd begun to plan when Alyx was just a little girl, and her father was never able to give her away as he'd once hoped to. The lack of his presence especially had been a difficult pill to swallow, and being reminded of it now still saddened her to think about. She would never get those moments back, and she hoped that Elaina realized how blessed she was to have her family surrounding her on such a special day.

Alyx studied the young couple as they exchanged their vows and suddenly felt very old, though she'd hardly been any older than them when she and Alistair married. Perhaps it had something to do with the difference in their situation. Elaina and Thomas were both young and fresh and unaffected by the darkness that had defined her life these past few years. With luck they would never have to know it. _How wonderful it would be to just be beginning your life, _Alyx thought with an inward sigh. A sudden surge of regret welled up inside of her as she realized that this moment in time very well could have reflected her own life had things been different, followed by guilt for thinking so selfishly. A voice in the back of her head whispered, _it's not too late, _and then another image filled her mind; one that made her pulse suddenly race.

It was astonishing how easily her subconscious proffered a reflection of herself and Nate in the young couple's place. Until then she hadn't really let herself think about their future together, but now…could she really see she and Nate marrying one day? The answer jumped to her almost before her mind had the chance to finish the thought. Yes. Yes she could.

Alyx chanced a glance up at him and froze as he caught her gaze and held it. A hundred thoughts raced through her head as she drowned in the two pools of liquid steel. _How long has he been watching me? Does he know what I'm thinking? Does it show on my face? Is it too soon? _She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, but his expression was indecipherable. Then Nate took her hand and raised it to his lips to brush a light yet meaningful kiss across her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. Alyx blushed and wondered if he could hear her heartbeat hammering against her ribcage. It was practically all she could hear herself and yet it wasn't quite loud enough to drown out the interested murmuring of the crowd behind them. Doubtless anyone still questioning the nature of their relationship would no longer be after such a public display of affection. No matter how innocent the gesture, Nate had essentially marked her as his, and the look on his face told her he was well aware of the implications of his actions. The thought both thrilled and scared her. She suddenly wanted nothing more than for the wedding celebration to be over so that she could have him to herself again. They had much to talk about and tonight…well, tonight she would not be taking no for an answer.

* * *

For the first time in many years the Vigil was alight with the resounding hum of celebration. Every window was thrown open to let the light of thousands of candles and the sound of feasting and music spill out into the world beyond. Were one to peek into one of these windows they would see tables laden with the most tempting of foods from golden-roasted suckling pigs to rich stews, sweetmeats, exotic fruits and hot mead. The tantalizing scent of the bounty within mingled with the sweet scent of the flowers that decorated every available nook and cranny.

Nate leaned back against the wall, lazily swirling the remnants of his wine in his glass as he watched the festivities from across the room...or rather he watched Alyx from across the room. _Maker but she's beautiful, _he thought to himself. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of her all evening, especially now that the sun had set and the torchlight played delightfully across her russet hair.

He smiled in wry amusement as he watched the crowd around her steadily grow in proportion. No doubt each and every one of them had some desperate matter to bring to their Arlessa's attention, caring little that she was just as much a guest at this celebration as they. Nate knew most in her position would have long since tired of their endless appeals but not Alyx. She had the same steady patience and consideration for the common folk as she did with her vassals and the other nobility. It was one of the many things he admired about her. Once again he was struck by just how lucky he was. What had he ever done to deserve such a woman? He didn't.

Elaina approached Alyx and after the exchange of a few words the two women embraced like old friends. Nate knew they had become close over the past few weeks while Alyx planned the wedding festivities and he was glad for it. His Lexy needed more ties to normalcy, and the young woman was as grounded as they were ever going to find at the Vigil.

"Not joining in on the festivities?" a voice asked from beside him.

Nate glanced at Varel and shot him a wry smile.

"Oh, no doubt Lex will soon remember I'm here and force me to participate in one way or another," he replied, eliciting a chuckle from the older man. "And what of you? Shouldn't you be accepting congratulations or something?"

"Without a doubt, but even proud papas need to take a breather," Varel said before taking a long drought from his tankard.

"Even so, I'd like to congratulate you on the advent of your daughter's union, ser. May they be happy and prosperous in their new life together," Nate said as he held up his glass.

"My thanks," Varel replied, raising his own glass in toast. After they'd both drank from their cups Nate's gaze turned back to Alyx and Varel was free to eye the younger man in scrutiny. "Perhaps yours will be the next wedding I attend," he added carefully.

Nate's head whipped around at Varel's comment. The two men silently eyed each other and then the corner of Nate's mouth lifted in a half-smile that spoke volumes to the Seneschal.

"That obvious is it?" Nate asked.

Varel cocked his head to the side and smiled at the younger man knowingly.

"I've had an idea for some time about where things were going between the two of you, but then I've had the privilege of knowing you and Alyxandria on a more personal level. For the others it has come as quite a shock. It's all anyone can talk about since you arrived arm-in-arm at the ceremony."

"And what precisely are they saying?" Nate asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Varel blanched, but only for a second.

"Some like my daughters believe it to be terribly romantic, like some dramatic tale of star-crossed lovers, others still are angered by the very idea, but mostly they are confused," Varel replied, and then quickly continued before Nate could retort. "You must remember that these are simple people who judge only by what they've heard and base their conclusions against their own experiences. They look at the two of you and see the public figures you've become, not the people that lay beneath. To them she is larger than life, the quintessential hero and practically unreachable in every way; but when they look at you…all they can see is your father. He ruined more lives than just your own, Nathaniel. They cannot understand why after everything he has done a Cousland could ever possibly love a Howe. "

"That is not what we are."

"I know that, but they never will unless you prove otherwise," Varel continued as he placed a heavy hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "You are a good man, Nathaniel Howe. Prove it to them and they'll come 'round, but if you insist on keeping to yourself they never will. Now go. Kiss your woman, toast to the bride's health and dance with the common folk as if you belong. Pretend like you're enjoying yourself. You might actually find that you are."

And with that Varel turned on his heel, leaving Nathaniel blinking in surprise. After mulling the Senechal's words over in his head for a time, Nate took one last gulp of his wine and put the glass aside before crossing the room to where Alyx was still standing with Elaina.

* * *

***Author's Note: **_So...it's been awhile...far longer than I ever anticipated, and I can only hope there are those of you who are still interested in this story. I'll spare you the excuses, I'll just boil it down to a mix of distraction, writer's block, and RL craziness. Anyway, I have another callout, this time to Dasque who has a trio of inter-related Cousland/Alistair stories that are definitely worth the read if you haven't done so already. "Here Without You" was the original and is completed, and two prequels still in progress, one being a play-through story (ironically) entitled "Shades of Grey" and a story about the events between the two entitled "Time After Time." I highly recommend them. Anyway, it shouldn't be nearly as long between this chapter and the next. I've already started working on it in fact, so hopefully it will be up within the next week or two. I know some of this stuff seems like filler, but I promise we're leading up to some Nate/Cousland lovin' and then on to the end of the Awakening plot. Thanks for reading and please review! It means a lot to me to hear your opinions. ~Prose_

_P.S. Some of you may have noticed this chapter has a title. Somewhere down the yellow brick road of writer's block I decided to go back and reread (a.k.a. edit the crap out of) the previous chapters and for some reason decided it would be fun to add titles to each chapter. So for now on each chapter will have one, for no other reason than giggles. Take care everyboday, and Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate it!_


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45 – Let's Face the Music & Dance**

"I know, my Lady, that the deterioration of the chantry gargoyles is of little import to one such as yourself; especially in this time of turmoil. But you must understand…they are ever so much more than mere decoration! Not only are they of considerable historical significance, having stood since the days of Calenhad, but they also happen to be functional waterspouts…or rather they _should_ be if they were not in such poor repair…"

Alyx tried not to grind her teeth too loudly as she listened to Ser Barnsey…or was it Ser Wesley…or _Maker, what was his name?..._ pontificate about the importance of structural integrity. She was desperately trying to keep her attention focused on what the strange little man was saying…really she was…but she felt as if some miniature being had begun hammering at the point just between her eyebrows. To keep herself distracted she found herself instead taking mental notes on the little quirks of her current companion's appearance. For instance, his beard and mustache…she swore he must use something to keep them pointed heavenwards, even as they ticked against his rounded cheeks when he spoke. And then there was the fact that his right eye would sometimes wander to one side of its own accord, only to snap straight ahead again after awhile…

"…Now. If you would just take a glance at this prospectus…"

_He has a prospectus? Who in Andraste's name brings a prospectus to a wedding? _Alyx thought, telling herself once again to have patience but utterly failing.

Ser What's-his-name was perhaps the twentieth person that had decided to use the informality of Elaina's wedding feast to approach her about some "urgent" matter or another. Only the truth was most of what she'd been told was either absolute nonsense or of little consequence while the darkspawn were still a threat. It was all she could do not to tell the lot of them that she was very sorry, but she could care less if the creepy looking statues atop the chantry were crumbling to dust or that they swore the neighbor's bratty kid poisoned their best mouser or whatever the complaint was (though admittedly there were a few valid claims amongst them she really should have Varel look into, once he recovered from the shock of having a married daughter that is).

Alyx sighed. Couldn't she just get slobbering drunk, embarrass herself in a hundred different ways and then pass out in the first available corner like any normal wedding guest? _Oh, right. I can't, _she thought with an internal snort of derision, though outwardly she had a polite smile pasted across her face while she nodded her head and watched Ser What's-his-face get redder and redder as he talked. She was suddenly reminded of an over-ripe tomato, only with arms and legs and a large bulbous nose.

_This "responsible, duty-bound Arlessa/Warden-Commander" business is for the birds. I quit. Someone go tell Anora I said see ya' later. Farewell. Adios. Au revoir. Do svidanja. So long and thanks for all the fish._

"Ah, there you are!" crowed a familiar (and exceedingly welcomed) voice as Elaina pushed through the crowd and clasped both of Alyx's hands in her own. "Finally! You'll forgive me for interrupting Ser Bensley, but I've been waiting to talk to the Commander all evening. If you'll excuse us?" she said sweetly to the man, fluttering her eyelashes for full effect.

_Ah-_ha!_ Ser Bensley. That was his name! _Alyx thought, giving herself a mental slap to the forehead.

"Er—uh, of course. We can discuss this another time, my Lady?" Bensley stuttered and then bowed so deeply that she almost thought the tip of his pointed beard touched the floor. It was all Alyx could do not to burst out laughing as he shuffled away, leaving her blessedly alone with Elaina.

"I thought you might need rescuing," Elaina said as an aside. "I really have been dying to speak with you all night, but there hasn't been less than three people surrounding you since the ceremony ended."

"My thanks," Alyx whispered back. "I thought I might have to take desperate measures just to get a moment's peace."

"They're shameless! Aren't they?" Elaina said with a giggle.

Alyx shrugged.

"It's to be expected. Growing up I remember father was constantly approached, no matter the time of day or what the occasion was. Only he had a great deal more patience for it than I."

"Well, I think you're doing splendidly," Elaina replied, dismissing her claim with a wave of her hand. "As do the rest or they wouldn't come to you for help. They have faith in you, you know."

"Perhaps," Alyx conceded. "Then again they probably only come to me because they have no one else to go to. But that's beside the point. You said you wished to speak to me?"

"Only to tell you how grateful I am for all that you've done. I can't thank you enough, my Lady, for the time and resources it must have taken to pull all this together."

"Come now, Elaina. I think we're beyond formalities by now, don't you?"

"As you wish," Elaina answered with a laugh and then surprised Alyx by throwing her arms around her neck in a quick, friendly embrace. "Thank you, Falcon, from the bottom of my heart."

"It was no trouble, really. In fact it is _I_ who should be thanking you. After all, planning this event kept me busy and out of trouble while I was trapped in that miserable bed; and… I'd like to think that more has come out of it than a single day of revelry. You'll always have the memory of it to come back to whenever you wish, and then also perhaps…a friend to reminisce with?"

"I'd like that," Elaina replied , unshed tears of gratitude springing to her eyes as she gave Alyx another hug and then laughed in nervous relief as she quickly wiped them away. "Who knows? Perhaps yours will be the next wedding at the Vigil. Then I might have the chance to repay you for your kindness."

Alyx blushed at Elaina's comment and the younger woman giggled in absolute delight.

"Uh-huh. I thought as much."

"It's a little too early to be planning my wedding, Elaina."

"Nonsense! I mean, when it's right…"

"Well, certainly, but we've only just—"

"All I'm saying is that you shouldn't discount the idea out of hand. Anyone with eyes can see how taken you are with each other. Isn't that all that really matters?"

Alyx pinched her lips together, not sure if she was more likely to laugh or to groan at her friend's tenacity.

"Besides, he _is_ possibly the most dashing man in the room…next to my Thomas and father of course," Elaina added with a giggle. "I don't care what the others say. I think he's a fine young man."

"What are they saying?" Alyx asked, her expression falling. Elaina snapped her mouth shut and immediately looked as if she wished she hadn't said anything.

"Nothing," she said a little too quickly. "At least nothing to be concerned about. _Really_, Falcon," she added when all Alyx could do was glare.

"He isn't his fahter, Elaina. Not even close."

"Of course not. He wouldn't be with you otherwise would he?" Elaina replied calmly. "Give it time. If he is anything like you say he is, then the people will see it, too."

Alyx stared at her for long moment, not sure if she could believe her words but ultimately deciding to drop the topic despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The light touch of fingers on her arm made her head snap around and her heart jump as she looked up into the stormy eyes of the very subject of their conversation.

He startled her. That much was clear by the way she nearly jumped out of her skin when his fingers brushed her arm just above the elbow. But then she smiled and shot him that strangely scintillating look that set his pulse to racing, and it was all Nate could do not to drag her up the stairs to his bedchambers. It was Elaina's throaty laughter and knowing smile that brought him back to reality, and just in time to prevent him from doing something truly embarrassing.

"Good evening Warden Nathaniel," she said sweetly in greeting.

"And you, Elaina. Your father was just reminding me that I have been remiss in my duties. May I offer you best wishes and many blessings in your union?"

"Why thank you, Nathaniel, though I can hardly blame you for being distracted," she replied, her eyes sparkling in wry humor.

Nathaniel cocked an eyebrow at her and Elaina's laugh rung out like a bell. He couldn't help but notice the attractive blush the rushed to Alyx's face and immediately decided that he very much liked Varel's eldest daughter.

"I was just thanking her ladyship for a most memorable evening. This…all of this…is more than I could have ever imagined for my wedding day," Elaina continued.

"And _I_ was just telling Elaina that it was the least I could do in return for her father's commendable service…and for a friend," Alyx replied.

"I am grateful, nevertheless," she replied, squeezing Alyx's hand one final time. "Now if you will excuse me, I must be getting back to my husband before he begins to wonder if I've already up and run away on him."

"And where've you been?" Alyx asked Nate as she turned and looped her arm through his. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd abandoned me to the vultures for some cozy, secluded hideaway."

"Me? Abandon you, dear Lady? Perish the thought! Besides, I was having far too much fun watching you work the crowd."

"Some knight in shining armor you are," Alyx pouted.

Nate chuckled.

"And here I thought the great and powerful Warden-Commander of Fereldan wouldn't need something as parochial as a knight in shining armor."

"Apparently I didn't with the bride to rescue me," she replied. "You should be ashamed."

"Positively mortified," he said low in her ear as he drew her closer. "As Varel was only too happy to remind me, wishing the bride well is not the only duty I've neglected this evening."

"Oh? Do tell," she murmured, a slow, sultry smile spreading across her lips.

"It's not what you think you little minx," he said laughingly. "Let's just say that he believes it is within my best interests to mingle with the people rather than play the antisocial outcast."

"A wise suggestion," Alyx replied. "How, then, do you propose to 'mingle?' "

"Hmm, well that's the rub now, isn't it? Perhaps I should follow in the footsteps of my peers. _They_ don't seem to be having any problems now, are they?"

It didn't take more than a glance to pick out the wardens in the crowd. Justice was the only fully armored figure in the sea of faces, besides the fact that he stood a full head above almost everyone else. He and Sigrun appeared to be deep in conversation (or given the rate at which Sigrun's mouth was moving, she was talking and he was listening). Oghren was participating in a rowdy arm-wrestling competition, and Zevran was in his element, surrounded by a gaggle of giggling women. Even Anders (that moody git) had a pair of busty blondes sitting on his lap, his eyes glassed over with too much drink. _Sure did move on fast enough, didn't you old fellow? _Nate growled to himself, though he couldn't really blame the man. Had Alyx chosen Anders over him, he might very well have decided to drown himself in booze and sex to forget as well. He didn't miss the frown that passed over Alyx's face when she saw him, however, and couldn't help the jealousy that rose at the sight of it. That she chose him didn't mean she didn't still care for the mage. Still, he couldn't pretend it didn't rankle just a little.

Just then Oghren crowed with triumph and jumped up on the table screaming, "I'm the king of the world!" before belching and tumbling back off the table in a drunken stupor. Alyx sighed and took a step forward but Nate stopped her.

"Let him be, Lex," he said, and the suddenly had an idea. "On second thought…come on."

"Where are we going?" she squeaked as he grabbed her hand and began pulling her behind him.

"You'll see," he replied laughingly. Nate saw her eyes widen in understanding as they approached the crowd surrounding Oghren's table and he threw her a look that said _trust me _before she could try to talk him out of it.

"Not so fast dwarf," he called loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear him over Oghren's drunken boasting. "You haven't faced _me_ yet."

"Wha—? Ha! Hahahaha! I'd never thought to see the day. Bring it on son!" Oghren bellowed as he slammed his fist down on the table.

"As if that's much of a challenge for ye' now," a man in the crowd muttered with a loud snort. "He's right pickled he is."

"And how is that different from any other day?" the woman next to him asked, producing a few knowing chuckles from amongst the other spectators.

"An' yet he still beat ye', dinn' he Tom?" someone else called from the opposite side of the table, producing a heartier round of laughter along with a few hoots and catcalls to boot.

"Forget about the dwarf. You want a challenge? Take me on," another man said as he pushed to the front of the crowd. Nate found himself in the rare position of having to look up as a veritable behemoth of a man crossed his massive arms and smirked at him as if he'd already won. Nate cocked an eyebrow at him. He could see more than just friendly competition behind the other man's cocky glare. He meant to humiliate him. What's more, he knew by the sudden silence around him that the rest of them knew it as well.

"You're on," Nate replied calmly, inwardly reminding himself to play nice.

"Go on Rayland…only don't hurt him," a woman with mousy brown hair and clear gray eyes called out, causing the expanding crowd surrounding them to hoot with laughter. Only Rayland seemed unaffected by her words as he ignored Nate's outstretched hand and sat heavily at the table. Nate took up his position on the other side of the table, his steady gaze never leaving the bad-tempered man's.

"On my count, gentleman," the acting mediator said as Rayland and Nate clasped hands and waited for the signal. Once it came it didn't seem as if either man had moved, at least at first, until beads of sweat began trickling down their faces as the strain began setting in.

"Rayland, is it? That sounds familiar. Have we met before?" Nate asked the man.

"Well as it should. My family's been smithin' for the keep since your Grandfather's days. I've known you since you was a babe in arms, _m'lord," _Rayland growled sarcastically.

Nate eyed Rayland curiously, wondering just how old the man actually was if he claimed to have known him so long. Looking at his craggy, weathered features only told him of a life of hard work and harder fortune. It was a look he'd become far too familiar with over the years.

"Ah, that's it then. Such loyalty is commendable," Nate replied.

"It wasn't loyalty to your stock, that's for sure," Rayland muttered angrily. "Your father was like to tax us into our graves. When we couldn't pay he took m'best broodmare. Comes to find out he only took her a'tall 'cause his lordship's son took a shining to her. I was going to make my fortune on that horse."

_Ah, and we come to the point at last, _Nathaniel thought.

"Pretty little bay dun, partially green, went by Piper?"

"That's right," Rayland said with a knowing grimace, as if Nate's words confirmed his suspicions. "I'm surprised you would remember her, seein' how this was—"

"—About ten or so years ago? I remember her alright," Nate replied with a sardonic chuckle. "Father gave her to Thomas as a nameday gift that year. The fool used spurs on her his first outing and was thrown for his trouble. Father was furious. Said she was too wild; that she would be of better use to the butcher, but I knew better. I wanted to prove him wrong, so I asked the stable master to hold off until I had a shot at training her myself."

"And…what came of it?" Rayland asked, obviously curious despite himself.

"I won my first tourney on the back of that horse. As reward for my efforts father had her destroyed and I…well, I was sent packing on a one-way trip to the Free Marches."

"But…why?"

"Why else? Because I undermined his orders and, consequently, made him look a fool. To father's mind, there are few worse offenses."

"You noble types are a strange lot, you know that?" he finally said.

Nate chuckled.

"True as that may be, I am no longer one of them. I am a warden. That is it, and that is all."

Rayland eyed him uncertainly. Nate could almost hear the cogs turning as the other man weighed his words and tried to decide what to make of them. No sooner had Nate sensed the shift in the smithy's attitude than he felt Rayland's arm give beneath his own, and the resulting exclamation of the crowd in reaction to his sudden victory. Before he quite understood what happened Rayland was shaking his hand and calling for a toast.

"May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back—"

"—May the sun shine warm upon your face, the rains fall soft upon your fields and, until we meet again, May the Maker hold you in the hollow of His hand," Nate finished for him as he rose his glass in salute.

"You're alright, Howe," Rayland pronounced heartily as he clapped him on the back, a measure of honest respect in his eyes.

Alyx watched all of this from the sidelines perplexed. She'd been fairly certain the large man called Rayland was going to make a scene, but looking at the two men now you would almost think they were lifelong friends.

"What was that? I didn't recognize it," she whispered to Nate shortly after the toast.

"And old Amaranthine saying," he replied. "And a test I think."

"One I suppose you passed?"

"So it seems."

"You shall have to teach me this toast," she told him as she weaved her arm through his and they strolled away.

"It would be my pleasure," he replied warmly.

"Nate…not to demoralize your standing as the reigning arm-wrestling champion, but I suspect Rayland let you win."

"Yes, I know."

"You know?"

"Yes. Even if he hadn't told me himself…though it is kind of you to try to spare my feelings."

"That isn't funny," Alyx hissed reprovingly.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but you should have seen your face," Nate said as he tried to control his amusement. Alyx shot him a look and he coughed to cover one last laugh.

"Did heat least tell you why he threw the competition?" she asked after awhile.

"Yes. He said he couldn't very well make me look like a priss in front of her ladyship now, could he?" Nate replied as serious as could be. They stared at each other for a long second and then burst out laughing at the silliness of it all.

Alyx and Nate both looked up when the minstrels struck up a lively tune and suddenly the room was full of activity. Dancing was perhaps one of the most favored pastimes of a proper Fereldan wedding, and thus it came to no surprise that everyone who was able and willing seemed to drop what they were doing to head to the dance floor.

"Come on you two!" Elaina called as she flew by them, her Thomas just behind her.

Alyx smiled excitedly up at Nate and before he could argue she grabbed his hand and led him into the fray.

* * *

It is universally known that there are many truths a man can find at the bottom of a bottle. That has never been in question, rather whether or not he would remember the answer to the world's problems (let alone his own) when he awoke the next morning. Yet the only truth Anders could find at the bottom of _his _tankard was the same thought that had been running through his head for weeks now. That he was a bloody miserable fool.

For an instant he'd actually relaxed and begun to enjoy himself. The feast had been spectacular, a warden's dream really. Wine and ale were freely flowing and the girls, well… he couldn't quite remember either of their names, but they were just the sort he always used to go for… witless, warm and willing. Not a bad sort really, but after awhile their brainless prattle became nothing more than background noise. Then there was that lovely moment when he thought Nate was about to be pulverized by some giant of a man…but only just a moment. Anders never quite knew how he did it, but once again the broody baron had found a way to convince the man that he wasn't, in fact, a darkspawn in disguise. Sodding irritating.

From that point on it was all downhill. His head began to swim from the ale that felt like a brick of lead at the bottom of his stomach. The table he sat at, once filled with wedding guests, had long since been abandoned, save for himself. Even the girls had left him to his own devices long ago, no longer fascinated by the handsome blonde warden in the colorful robes. He knew why. Somewhere in the plain of existence between tipsy and drunk Anders had begun to brood. Misery had taken precedence over manners, and now no one wanted anything to do with him.

He watched as Nate and Falcon twirled around the dance floor in each other's arms, looking to all the world like the sickeningly happy couple that they were. _I am a fool, _he thought to himself. A fool to have taken so long to have seen how perfectly the two of them fit together; a fool to ever think that a woman like Falcon would have chosen him over a man like Nathaniel Howe. But above all else, he was a fool to think that he could ever live a normal life beyond the shackles of his magical ability.

_No more, _his subconscious whispered. He'd had quite enough. At least for one night.

Anders stood and nearly fell sideways as the world heaved at the sudden movement. He waited for his stomach to settle but when it didn't he knew he should probably make a quick exit. _Best to go out the side door, _he thought, remembering that was the one closest to the privy.

"Oiy, where do you think you're going mage?" a guard on the other side of the door asked.

"I just need to step out to the privy my good man." _Not that it's any of your damned business, _he silently added as he made to pass the guard and was surprised when he was stopped by a heavy hand to the shoulder. Anders shot the man a strange look and made to shake his hand off but the guard's grip was like steel.

"You can't leave now. You'll miss the fireworks," the guard said with a smile that looked rather more like a sneer to Anders.

_Hmm, that's strange. I never remember Falcon mentioning fireworks in the evening's activities. Perhaps it's meant to be a surprise? _ He wondered.

It was the last thought he had before everything went entirely black.

* * *

The world was spinning. She was breathless, but in a completely giddy, satisfying way she'd forgotten existed. The way she'd forgotten how much she truly enjoyed dancing.

Every time the lines reset there would be a different face across from her, sometimes new sometimes familiar and on occasion, beloved. Alyx had danced with all her friends, and although Nate was always nearby she'd barely had more than a few steps with him before her partner changed. Instead of being frustrated by their intermittent separation she found herself strangely enticed by the quick glimpses of him from across the room, and by the knowledge that at any moment she might find him standing across from her. It added an element of excitement that was both familiar and completely new to her at turns.

It was when the pace changed and the music slowed that Alyx finally turned to see him there, waiting for her. Her breath hitched as he offered her his hand and wordlessly, she melted into the circle of his arms. She sighed in pleasure as he effortlessly matched his steps to her own, giving her the sensation of floating.

"You've been holding out on me," she teased. When he simply cocked an eyebrow at her Alyx laughed.

"I never said I _couldn't_ dance, only that I didn't," Nate replied evenly. "Though I'm willing to temporarily set aside that particular maxim if it means I get to have you in my arms."

"You know you needn't have the excuse of a dance to have me in your arms whenever you wish, right?" she asked as she looked up at him through her eyelashes and tried not to laugh when he nervously cleared his throat.

"Not in public," he replied hoarsely. "Not with everyone staring at us."

At a glance Alyx could see he was right. Though they were far from the only couple on the dance floor, they were the only ones garnering the attention of those sitting on the sidelines. Even some of the other dancers were sneaking covert glances in their direction, and she was beginning to wonder what was so damned fascinating about them.

"And why not? We could give them something to stare at," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Minx," he growled. "Don't tempt me."

"And here I thought that was the point," she replied, barely able to contain her mirth.

"I swear you're going to be the death of me woman," he teased. It wasn't until Alyx's face went stark white that he realized his mistake. "I'm sorry, Lex. I didn't mean it that way," he added softly. She nodded in understanding but fell silent as she tightened her grip on his hand.

Alyx could only stare up into those beautiful silverite eyes of his and try to clear her mind of the shadows that temporarily cast over the happiness of the evening. Like a drop of cool water to a parched tongue, she was instantaneously relieved by what she saw in their depths. She relaxed once again in his arms, letting herself be carried away by the strength of his hands and the warmth of his body pressed near to hers. She didn't know if it was the effect of the wine or the close proximity, but she began to feel a low, throbbing heat that started in her chest and moved slowly through her body to tingle in her fingers and toes. She felt lightheaded and slightly dizzy, but in a somehow pleasant way she never wanted to stop.

"What are you thinking?" Nate asked after awhile.

"How I wish that this night…this moment…would never end," she answered honestly. "It's funny. When the day begun I could only think how much I wanted it to be over, but now…I could easily spend the rest of my life right here."

"It doesn't have to end, Lex," he replied hoarse and low.

"Of course it does," she said sadly. "Tomorrow will come whether we like it or not, and so will the darkspawn and—"

"—Shh. Let's not think about it. Tomorrow can wait. Until then, nothing else exists…just us, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed with a sigh and a smile as they continued to dance, this time cheek to cheek.

That's when she first noticed something was off. Up until that moment she and Nate had been trapped in each other's gazes. Perhaps that was why she hadn't noticed anything peculiar until she was in a position to glance over his shoulder. Even then it was hardly more than just a flash of movement, so minute that most wouldn't have noticed at all, but it was enough to catch her attention.

The next set of events happened in a mere matter of seconds but to Alyx time nearly slowed to a halt. The sound of music and voices, clinking dishes and boisterous laughter faded until it echoed hollowly in her ears. As if in slow motion, a slight figure in cheap leathers stepped out from behind a pillar and leveled a crossbow aimed directly between Nate's shoulder blades. It was with cold clarity that she realized that there would be no dodging it. Not this time. Without a second thought, Alyx grabbed him by the arms and roughly swung him behind her until their places were reversed. She saw the sudden realization in his eyes but it was too late for him to stop what had already been set in motion. _I'm sorry, my love. Forgive me, _she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the impending blow.

* * *

***Author's Note: **_Wow, lots ot responses to the last chapter. Thank you everyone for your continued interest and support! I'll keep it short, but I just wanted to leave a note. The toast said by Rayland and Nate is an old Irish blessing (which many of you probably already know, but I thought I would point it out just in case). It was altered just a tad to fit into the DA world. I am lousy at creating such things, so I hope you and the original author (whoever he may be) don't mind me lifting it. I've already begun work on the next chapter so with any luck it will be out in no time. Please continue to R&R, I so love hearing your opinions and perspective! ~Prose_

**Muse Tunes: **"Let's Face the Music & Dance," Cheek to Cheek" and "What a Wonderful World" from the Meet Joe Black OST; "Dark Moon High Tide," "Devil's Tapdance" and "Brooklyn Heights I" from the Gangs of New York OST; "Story of My Life" by The Chamber Orchestra of London (Downton Abbey OST); and "I'll Be Seeing You," by Billie Holiday.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46 – I'll Be Seeing You**

One second passed…and then two…but the blow never came.

Alyx had heard the whizz and pop of an arrow flying through the air and then striking home; had registered the gasps and screams of the panicked wedding guests behind her, but the lancing pain she expected to follow never came. Instead when she looked around it was to find Varel kneeling behind her, the bolt meant for her jutting from his shoulder. She immediately bent to check the severity of his wound but the Senechal dismissed her with a slight shake of his head.

"I'm…fine…Commander…behind…you," he hissed painfully through his teeth.

Alyx straightened and turned just in time to see the last of the wedding guests flee the dance floor as a small contingent of armed men closed in around them. Only she, Zevran and the other wardens remained where they stood, unflinching despite the fact that they were outnumbered two to one.

Automatically taking up a defensive stance, she reached for her blades and then inwardly cursed when her hand brushed against only fabric. Her first instinct was to go for the dirk hidden under her skirts, but then experience kicked in and reminded her to remain calm and passive until she knew more. These were not darkspawn after all. Perhaps they could be negotiated with, and if not…well, then it never hurt to be prepared. She shot a look at Zevran, whose answering nod was so infinitesimal that it was barely noticeable. Yet she knew her silent message had been received.

Her focus turned to the proud figure at the forefront of the intruders wearing gaudy, ornate plate armor. This, she knew, could only be the leader and instigator of this unwarranted assault. It wasn't until they drew closer that her spine stiffened in sudden recognition.

_Esmerelle. _

Her blood boiled as she watched the other woman approach her with a smirk on her puckered, sour face. On the one hand Alyx was enraged that Esmerelle saw fit to endanger the lives of innocents for the sake of her personal vendetta. On the other hand, she had to give it to the woman for her ingenuity. When else would she have found the Warden-Commander and her men unarmored and unarmed, and possibly incapacitated from overindulgence? Even most of the castle guard had been included in the festivities and therefore unequipped for such an invasion. Those few of Garavel's men that were still on duty would be on the ramparts and likely unaware of what was taking place inside.

To make matters worse, Anders was nowhere to be seen. Alyx hoped that he had simply retired for the evening and wasn't lying somewhere in a pool of his own blood. Though given their current circumstances her gut told her Esmerelle would have been sure to prevent any magical intervention to turn the tide in their favor.

"Esmerelle," she called in a clear, steady voice, not missing the flash of annoyance in the other woman's eyes at her lack of formality. "I should have known you would eventually force a confrontation."

_Should have_ would be putting it lightly. Alyx shot another glance at Zevran, but the look he gave her was undecipherable. She supposed it hardly mattered now with the former Bann and her merry band of conspirators standing here before her.

"You don't honestly think that I could live in a world where your crimes were left unanswered, do you? Before this night is out you will pay for what you've done," Esmerelle spat vehemently.

"What _I've _done? You invade my home, attack my people and you wish to talk of _my_ crimes?" she asked incredulously. "Why do this, Esmerelle? What could you possibly hope to gain?"

"Beyond the satisfaction of your death, Cousland bitch?" Esmerelle retorted.

"Mind your tongue, harpy. You speak to your rightful overlord," Garavel hissed as he pushed himself to the front of the crowd that had gathered at the far side of the room.

Alyx shot him a look of warning and tried not to groan out loud. She liked the Guard Captain well enough, but he had the unfortunate propensity to speak before he thought. And as much as she personally appreciated his support she knew that he was only aggravating the situation. To his credit, Garavel instantly backed down at her warning but still glared at Esmerelle in silent indignation. _If only looks could kill, _Alyx thought with a sigh.

"She is no overlord of mine, _dog_," Esmerelle spat back at Garavel. "The true Arl of Amaranthine lies dead, murdered in his home by this woman…this _pretender_…and now she unjustly claims his lands for her own!"

"And yet you had no problem with him murdering _her_ family and claiming Highever for _his_ own," Zevran murmured. "Are you sure you aren't Antivan my dear?"

"And I suppose you believe that Amaranthine should belong to you instead?" Alyx replied calmly, intentionally ignoring Zevran's interjection. "The Arling was given to the wardens by the Queen herself. You're mad if you believe she will simply hand it over to you on a silver platter."

"Oh, on the contrary. I think she will be more than happy to once she learns of your treachery."

"Treachery?" Alyx scoffed, almost choking on the word. "Anora and I may not always see eye to eye but we have long since come to an understanding. There is nothing you could tell her she does not already know, and nothing that comes remotely close to treason. You are grasping at straws."

"I think not…as well you know, don't you?" Esmerelle replied with an ugly sneer.

"Enough of your poisonous lies, Esmerelle. There is none of us here that would believe them," Nate interjected.

Alyx didn't dare look back but she could feel the warmth of his presence behind her and reached back to clutch his wrist. When she felt the familiar weight of a dagger hilt being pressed into her palm it was all she could do not to turn and kiss him on the spot. _You wonderful devious man, _she thought as she squeezed his fingers in silent gratitude.

"Nathaniel Howe," Esmerelle purred, her whole demeanor changing as her attention turned from Alyx to Nate. "I had heard you were back in Amaranthine, but I hadn't yet had the pleasure of renewing our acquaintance. Just look at you…a man grown. "

Alyx bristled possessively as Esmerelle's eyes traveled the length of Nate's body. She suddenly felt a lot like clawing the older woman's eyes out of her sour face.

"Don't tell me you plan to defend this woman…after all that she has done…after all that she has taken from you?" Esmerelle continued.

"Funny. That's exactly what I planned," he answered nonchalantly.

For a second Esmerelle's mask slipped, but then she continued on as if he never responded.

"The late Arl was often misunderstood, but then few knew him as you and I...or loved him half so well. Everything he did, everything he sacrificed was for the love of his family. For Amaranthine itself. He would not have suffered a Cousland in his place…but it is not too late. Join me. Help me avenge your dear father, and I'll ensure that you are handsomely rewarded. Perhaps I can even convince the Queen to reinstate your birthright. Think about it my dear boy. Amaranthine could be yours!"

"Thanks, but no thanks."

This time Esmerelle's mask failed completely and her lips turned down into a scowl.

"Well," she huffed in indignation. "Your father was right about you after all. You _are_ a disappointment."

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," he said with a winning smile, causing Esmerelle's scowl to deepen even further.

"Fine. If you'll not join me, you can die with the rest of them," she said.

This time it was Alyx's features that darkened, her eyes narrowing in fury at the older woman.

"I'll give you just one chance. Leave here now; take your men and disappear. You'll not be followed or hunted, and you will never have to see or hear from me again. I would think long and hard on this, Esmerelle, were I you. You may believe you have the upper hand but if you insist on this battle I promise, it will go badly for you."

Esmerelle chortled with uncontained mirth. Some of her men eyed her wearily and shifted uncomfortably behind her. _They_ at least seemed to be less certain of their current course of action, but neither did they move to lower their weapons. Alyx's hand reflexively tightened around the pommel of the dagger at her back.

"You are unarmed and outnumbered and without your pet mage to hide behind," Esmerelle said once she regained control of herself. "Even if my men were not so well-trained…and I assure you _they are_…not even the fabled Grey Wardens would be able to stand against such odds. Hero of Fereldan, hmph! Without your toys you're nothing more than a silly little girl in a party dress."

"I wouldn't count on that," Alyx replied darkly, and then pulled the dagger from behind her back.

With a flick of her wrist she sent the dagger flying, spinning end over end across the room until it sunk into the neck of the man standing at Esmerelle's right hand. The man gurgled grotesquely as he collapsed to the ground, a permanent look of surprise on his face as he gasped his last. For a heartbeat everyone froze where they were, but then Esmerelle's face went purple with rage.

"Attack!" she screeched as she drew her sword.

All hell broke loose at Esmerelle's piercing call and this time Alyx didn't hesitate. She crouched and quickly retrieved the dirk strapped to her calf, coming up just in time to block the downswing of a mercenary's sword. The man sneered at her as he took in the slim blade in her hand and swung at her again. Alyx feinted left, then right, and then ducked as the man continued in vain to strike her, but this time when she swung back up it was to jam her dagger as hard as she could into the vulnerable spot in his armor, just under the armpit. The man screamed in pain and lost the grip on his sword. Alyx caught it as it fell from his hand and finished him off before he could retaliate.

When she looked up it was to see Esmerelle staring at her from across the room, a mixture of fear and rage in her eyes. All around them the battle progressed, yet it all seemed as if somehow from a great distance. She was vaguely aware of Zevran passing out weapons from the cache they'd hidden earlier in the day, but otherwise her focus remained on the woman before her, just as Esmerelle kept her e eyes trained on her. Slowly straightening to her full height, Alyx closed the distance between them.

"This ends today," she said as she leveled her sword at Esmerelle's chest.

Though she didn't respond the fanatical light returned to Esmerelle's eyes as she readied her own weapon and shield.

Within seconds Alyx knew she would win. She could see that Esmerelle had been trained, but too recently to do her any good. To make matters worse the heavy armor she no doubt thought would save her life only served to hamper her every movement. A novice mistake, but then Esmerelle was no true swordsman. Alyx almost felt bad for the woman…_almost. _

"You have no hope of winning this, Esmerelle. Capitulate," Alyx called over the clashing of their blades.

"I _will_ win this. I must. Justice must prevail!" Esmerelle cried zealously.

"Justice? There is no justice, no honor, in forcing me to kill you."

"Foolish twit of a girl! Your arrogance will be your undoing."

"And your bravado will be yours," Alyx retorted. "Have you forgotten what I am beyond the title you so jealously crave? I've killed monsters that take bigger shits than you after breakfast, and yet somehow you believe a few goes at a practice dummy and handful of hired swords will be enough to save you. Fancy armor and a thick pocket book can only take you so far, Esmerelle. I ask you again. Surrender and I promise to show you what mercy I can."

"I suppose you offered Rendon your _mercy_ as well," Esmerelle spat with a disbelieving snort.

"I did in fact," Alyx replied in quiet fury. "Make no mistake, I wanted to see him suffer for what he did to my family, but I would have seen it done properly… by trial…in front of his peers…so that all of Thedas knew of his crimes before he died. It was _he_ that gave me no other choice."

"Lies," Esmerelle hissed.

"Believe what you want," Alyx replied with a shrug. "But my offer still stands."

"What could you offer me that I could possibly want?"

"Life."

"Life?" Esmerelle spat the word back at her between deep gasping breaths, almost as if it was poison upon her lips. "You mean a lifetime of rotting away in some dungeon. You've already taken everything else from me. I will not let you take my freedom too!"

Alyx froze; stunned by the emotion she saw flickering deep within Esmerelle's clouded, muddy-brown eyes. There was madness there, of that there was no question, but behind the madness lay something surprising…and disturbingly familiar.

Esmerelle saw her hesitance and used it to her advantage. Alyx momentarily saw stars as Esmerelle's shield came down against her head and then rammed her hard in the chest. All of the wind left her lungs in a woosh as she slammed to the ground, and for a split second the older woman was poised above her, ready to deliver the killing blow…but then Alyx came back to herself. In one fluid movement she sent Esmerelle sailing over her head and then flipped herself on top of her, her legs locking the other woman's arms securely to the ground a she pressed her dagger to her neck.

"Do it," Esmerelle wheezed, a macabre smile spreading across her face as blood filled her mouth, painting her lips crimson. "There are others ... they know your little secret…and one day so will everybody. I can die with the knowledge that justice…will be done…and when that day comes…when the queen knows all…that you will get…your just rewards…"

"I hope you enjoy the black city, Esmerelle. I hear it's nice this time of year."

"I'll be seeing you there soon enough…you and your bastard daughter…"

Alyx's face paled and then darkened in anger as the full extent of her words set in. As Esmerelle began to laugh it was all that Alyx could take. Without another word she plunged both her blades deep into Esmerelle's chest and with a sickening crunch, silenced her forever.

When it was done she could only stare down at Esmerelle's inert form as she tried to catch her breath. It was strange, seeing her in this light. With her face devoid of the puckered scowl it was almost as if she could see the young, attractive woman she might have once been, before life's bitterness had twisted her.

As for Alyx, she didn't know what to think or feel in that moment. She supposed she should be relieved, but too much had happened in the past few minutes for her mind to fully comprehend. So she just sat there and told herself to keep breathing in and out. Without really thinking about it her eyes searched out Nate's familiar form. Their gazes connected from across the room and then just like that, the fog lifted and she could think again.

But with clarity came a price...the sudden, breath-stealing vertigo that always ensued when reality suddenly came rushing back in. At a glance Alyx could see the fighting was over. The battle was won, but not all of her men had come out unscathed.

"Varel!" she gasped as she scrambled to her feet.

He was still where she'd left him, only now he was surrounded by his entire family, the youngest of which were openly weeping. _No! _Alyx silently cried as she stumbled across the room. When she drew closer she could see that Varel's head was propped in his wife's lap. The woman looked stricken but otherwise calm and dry-eyed as she silently brushed his hair back off his brow.

"Hold him," a familiar voice said, and it took a full moment for Alyx to realize that it was Anders speaking. "Brace yourself, Seneschal. This is going to hurt like hell."

Varel gasped as Anders quickly plucked the bolt from his shoulder and covered the wound with both hands, which glowed blue as he began the healing process.

"It's glancing, Commander," he said without looking at her as he continued to concentrate on his work. Alyx nodded once in understanding and then turned her attention to Varel.

"Is she dead?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes."

"Good," he replied with a nod of approval.

Alyx sighed and shot him an exasperated smile.

"Crazy, valiant old fool. What were you thinking?" she asked quietly.

Varel chuckled and then immediately winced in pain.

"Can't rightly say, Commander. When I saw that archer I just…knew what I had to do. I suppose you could say I acted out of instinct…and would do so again if it meant saving your life," he replied fervently.

"Varel—"

"I would. Remember? Blood to blood…"

"—my honor for yours," Alyx finished as she grasped his arm in a warrior's salute. "No more diving in front of arrows. That's an order," she added with mock severity.

"Don't worry, my Lady. After the tongue-lashing my girls are sure to give him, he won't be pulling a stunt like that again…here now! Stop your sniveling!" Varel's wife snapped as her attention turned to her two youngest, who were still crying despite Anders' insistence that their father was going to be fine. Alyx was still nonplussed by the woman's unshakable composure, but then she supposed with five daughters not much would ruffle her feathers. "Come now, love. Let's get you to bed," she added softly to her husband. Alyx and Anders stood and gave them room as the girls helped him to his feet and supported him as he slowly shuffled away.

"A few days of rest and he'll be right as rain," Anders slurred beside her.

Alyx's head whipped around at the strange tone of his voice and gasped when she saw the ugly gash across his temple. Nearly the entire right side of his face was caked with dried blood and his eyes looked glassy and unfocused. How hadn't she noticed until now? Without thinking she reached out to examine the wound but Anders violently recoiled from her touch.

"I'm fine," he snapped irritably, and then sighed when he saw the expression of hurt on her face that she couldn't quite hide, despite her best attempts. "It's nothing really. One of Esmerelle's men got the jump on me, only I don't think he meant to kill me, just render me unconscious. At least until the battle was over."

Alyx nodded once curtly and then fully looked him over before her eyes returned to his face. He was a mess, and she was pretty sure it wasn't completely due to the head wound.

"You should really take care of that. I can bring you up to speed tomorrow," she said.

"But what about—"

"Just go."

Anders straightened and nodded once before turning on his heel and stalking away. Alyx watched him go and sighed. She was really getting tired of the mage's childish petulance and was beginning to wonder if they would ever get past this…whatever this was.

"Everything alright?" Nate asked as he joined her.

"It will be," Alyx replied with a sad smile. And then his arms were wrapping around her and all she could do was lean into his warmth. Apart of her was aware of the stiffness in his body that warned her that all was not right, but she couldn't let herself think about it. Not yet anyway.

"Falcon!"

Alyx had a moment of confusion as she watched Elaina approach. Hadn't she just seen the woman leave with her family just a moment ago? Why would she be coming back unless…and that's when she remembered exactly what Esmerelle's plans had interrupted.

"Oh, Elaina…your wedding!" she breathed as she clasped both Elaina's hands in her own. "I don't know what to say except…I am so sorry!"

"Don't be ridiculous! You couldn't possibly have known what was going to happen. If anything we should be thanking you for keeping that vile woman from hurting anyone else. In fact that is exactly what I was coming to do."

"No oneshould have been injured in the first place. I should have—"

"Should have what, precisely? Father will heal and those responsible have paid for it. Beyond that, well, you did promise me a wedding day I would never forget," Elaina replied with a saucy wink and a smile.

"You are truly one of a kind, Elaina," Alyx replied, shaking her head in amazement.

"Funny. That is what my Thomas always says," Elaina said with a huge smile and wave as she said her good nights.

"These Fereldan's are stouter than I originally gave them credit for," Zevran said once he, Garavel, and the other wardens gathered around her. "I thought only Antivan's had the fortitude to witness such a blood bath and then go back to their revelries as if nothing ever happened. I am impressed…and somehow aroused. What?" he asked when Alyx simply crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

"How did this happen? How did we not know?" she asked him quietly, once again choosing to ignore his attempts at humor.

"Ah," Zevran said, his shoulders dropping at her words. "We knew they were planning something, but we did not think that they would move so quickly. I am sorry, Falcon. I have failed you."

"And the Crows with her?"

"Deserters most likely. To my knowledge the edict to refuse all contracts on the wardens still stands. No Crow wishing to maintain their standing in the order would accept such an offer, no matter how good the coin."

"I see," she replied, pursing her lips in thought. "Garavel?"

"All of Esmerelle's men are dead, save for one of the minor lords who surrendered early on. He has been taken into custody and is awaiting judgment at your leisure. Unfortunately, we have yet to ascertain how they were able to enter the Vigil in the first place."

"I think I might be able to answer that," Nate interjected. "There is a network of tunnels leading in and out of the keep known traditionally only by the Howe family. Grandfather had most of them closed up but I know of at least one that still remains passable. I think it's safe to assume father would have known of it too. He could have very easily passed this information to Esmerelle…though to what end, I'd rather not think about."

"That's how you did it," Alyx said as a knowing smile spreading across her face.

"Beg pardon?" Nate asked, confused.

"That night you were captured by the wardens…I read their reports. They couldn't figure out how you got past undetected. Now it all makes sense."

"Yes. Only I got cocky once I was in. Best mistake I ever made," he said with on his rare, lightning-quick smiles.

"Can you show me these passages?" Garavel asked.

"Yes of course. I'll even draw you a map."

"Thank you," Garavel said to Nate with a polite nod of his head before turning back to Alyx. "We may want to consider closing them altogether, Commander. As useful as they could be, I think they may prove to be too much of a security risk to leave be."

"I agree," she replied. "Thank you, Captain. That will be all."

"As you wish, Commander. And don't worry about the, err, mess. My men will take care of it," Garavel said with a curt bow before he too turned and left. As soon as he disappeared Alyx turned back to the others.

"Zevran, I want you in charge of interrogation. We need to know everything, and I mean _everything _that man knows," she said, and then took a quick glance around to make sure no one else was listening before continuing in a low voice. "Esmerelle eluded that there are still others…that they know about Jocelyn."

"She could be bluffing," Nate said.

"I hope so, but that is not something I'm willing to leave to chance."

"Understood, my dear warden. You can count on me," Zevran replied with a flowery bow.

"As for the rest of you…good work tonight. Dismissed," Alyx said, and then clasped Nate's arm before he could walk past her. "You are not dismissed," she said softly as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Good. I wasn't planning on going anywhere anyway. At least not until we've talked," he replied gruffly. "Come on. I'll walk you to your rooms."

Alyx shivered at his words. She couldn't help it, though he was obviously irritated and thus unlikely to be whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Without a word she took his arm and allowed him to guide her up the stairs and through the winding corridors of the keep. She hazarded a glance up at him only to see that his lips were thinned in a firm, straight line and his eyes snapped with barely contained anger. Beneath her fingertips his arm felt like steel. _Angry? Strike that. Furious is more like, _she corrected herself, and she was fairly certain she knew why. _Yep. This is definitely not going to be a pleasant conversation._

The walk from the main hall to her bedchamber, though short, was spent in tense silence, leaving her on edge by the time they arrived. It was all Alyx could do not to jump out of her skin at the sound of the door clicking shut behind them.

Her room was dark save for a low fire smoldering in the hearth and the moonlight streaming through windows thrown open to the warm night air. Yet it was enough for her to see that Nate had stopped just inside the door, his back still turned to her as he braced an arm against the thick oaken frame. She knew by the ridged set of his shoulders that he was desperately trying to contain his temper.

"What were you thinking?" he asked in quiet fury.

"I think you already know the answer to that," she replied as she folded her hands demurely in front of her and notched her chin up a stubborn degree.

"_Damn_ _it_ Alyx!" he growled, slamming his fist against the door before turning to face her, eyes blazing with outrage. "You could have been killed! _Would _have been killed if it wasn't for Varel!"

"You don't know that. Not for sure."

"That's not the bloody point!" he bellowed and then abruptly started pacing in wide circles around the room.

Alyx couldn't help but admire his long, graceful strides despite the anger rolling off of him in waves. In moments like these he reminded her of a great black panther stalking its prey; all sinew and scarcely bridled strength. She'd seen the same beautiful fluidity of motion in the way he drew his bow in combat.

"The man had an arrow aimed at your heart. What was I supposed to do? Stand back and watch?" she asked, her own temper beginning to rise.

"If necessary, yes!"

"You can't really mean that," she gasped. She suddenly felt as if she'd just been punched in the gut.

Nate stopped pacing and glared at her from across the room.

"And why not? In the time since we renewed our acquaintance you've been poisoned, tortured and damn well near filleted alive. And then tonight…_Maker_ Lex! How many times? How many times must I watch you cheat death?"

"We are wardens, Nathaniel. Danger is as inevitable as the rising and setting of the sun," she replied.

"Don't you think I already know that?" he snapped as he closed the distance between them. They were practically nose to nose, and Alyx had to tilt her head back just to look at him. "I am not naïve enough to believe I could keep you out of harm's way, but neither can I afford to worry every time we go into battle that you're going to end up on the business end of a blade trying to protect me," he continued. When she didn't say anything Nate blew out a breath and ran both hands through his hair in frustration.

"Promise me, Lex. Promise me you'll never pull a stunt like that again."

"No."

"_Alyx."_

"I can't, Nate. I _won't._ I'll not make you a promise I know I'll never keep," she said as she turned away from him. _I will not cry, _she told herself as she felt the old, familiar fears begin to creep back into her heart. Suddenly her hands were trembling. "You don't know what you're asking. What it would cost me!" she cried in sudden panic. "You don't know what it's like. You might think you do but you don't! I-I can't go through that again! I can't lose someone else that I—"

"That you what, Alyx?" he asked softly.

Her mouth slammed shut as she realized what she had almost said. Perhaps she _should_ tell him and just get it over with…but her tongue felt as if it had suddenly grown three times its normal size and her mouth seemed unable to do anything other than open and close like a codfish. Nate sighed and shot her and exasperated smile before enfolding her in his embrace.

"I'm sorry, Lex. I don't mean to be harsh. You just scared me is all," he mumured into her hair and then leaned back to search her expression. He gently ran the back of his knuckles along her jawline and then tilted her chin up with a calloused finger until grey eyes met blue. "There are many things in this world I am willing to live without. You are not one of them," he told her with quiet conviction.

Alyx's eyes went wide as his words sunk in and she suddenly found it very hard to breath. Nate kissed her gently on the forehead and then wrapped her once again in his arms. She clung to the material of his shirt and pressed her cheek against his chest as she snuggled into his warmth and soaked up the strength that always seemed to emanate from him. Countless emotions played havoc through her, but as she listened to the steady beat of his heart there was one that was clearer than all the rest.

"Stay," she heard herself say, and was surprised at how steady her voice was despite the jangling of her nerves.

Nate's head flew up in surprise, his nostrils delicately flaring as he searched her eyes in silent question. His expression was as indecipherable as it always was and suddenly she was afraid. What if he refused her? She didn't think she could bear it.

When he reached for the door handle behind her Alyx's heart plummeted all the way down to her toes…and then soared at the unmistakable sound of the tumblers falling into place.

Over the years Alyx would often replay the events of this night in her memories. After awhile some of the details would become a little hazy. She would eventually forget what color her dress had been, or what exact phrasing or action had prompted her to ask him to stay. But no matter how much time had passed she would always remember Nate's one-worded acceptance, whispered into her ear as he locked the door behind them.

_"Always."_

* * *

***Author's Note: **_Thank you everyone for the amazing responses to the last chapter and to those of you who continue to put this story on alert and favorites. I'm always surprised when I hear from new readers and I am so grateful for your feedback and continued interest! Next chapter will be an Oh so sweet reminder of why this story is rated M…or so I hope. I don't have much experience writing love scenes but I hope Alyx and Nate's will prove to be steamy yet tasteful. Thanks again, and please let me know what you think! Xoxo ~Prose_

**Muse Tunes: **_"I'll Be Seeing You" by Billie Holiday;"Reaping Day" by James Newton Howard (Hunger Games OST); "Await the King's Justice" by Ramijn Djawadi (Game of Thrones OST); "You Can Not Defeat Me", "You Can't Have My Heart" and "You Failed Me Finn" by James Newton Howard (Snow White and the Huntsman OST); "Forrest Meets Forrest" by Alan Silvestri (Forrest Gump OST)._


	47. Chapter 47

*******_**NSFW**_*******

**Chapter 47: Brave New World**

Before Alyx could fully absorb the weight of Nate's one-worded answer she found herself decisively trapped between the sturdy oak door and the solid mass of his large body. Suddenly his lips were moving over hers, strong and demanding, and all coherent thoughts flew from her head save one:

Once again, Nathaniel Howe had been holding out on her.

Oh, they'd shared scores of kisses but none of them compared to this. _This_ was not the slow, sensual buildup she'd become familiar with over the past few weeks. This was hot and hungry and incredibly provocative. For once Nate's feelings were loud and clear, plainly broadcasted to her with every possessive stroke of his tongue, and suddenly she felt as if she were unraveling from the inside out. Had he kissed her like this…_Maker…_she would never have allowed him to deny her for so long, injured or no_. _As it was, the reminder was not doing anything to ease the fierce beating of her heart.

Weeks of restraint, adrenaline from the battle with Esmerelle's men and the emotional strain of their resulting argument coalesced to create an abrupt surge of need so potent it was nearly unbearable in its intensity. Nate's arms tightened almost painfully around her and she knew without a doubt that it was the same for him.

With a sort of frenzied detachment Alyx began to fumble with the buttons of his doublet. A part of her registered his long, nimble fingers simultaneously working at the complicated fastenings of her gown, but it wasn't until she stood in nothing more than her chemise and slippers that she became cognizant of her attire…or rather her sudden lack thereof. Nate himself still wore his trousers and under-tunic, but a quick glance at their surroundings confirmed that the rest of his clothing had somehow joined hers in a heap on the floor (though how he'd managed to get his boots off without her noticing was truly a fete beyond her current state of comprehension).

Her breathing quickly grew shallow and ragged as his attentions roamed away from her lips; leisurely working his way up the curve of her jaw-line to lightly nibble at her earlobe. This was followed by a series of searing, open-mouthed kisses pressed to the graceful line of her neck as one of his hands began to explore, distracting and yet adding to the myriad of sensations that was left in the wake of his touch. She involuntarily shivered as deft fingers lightly grazed the outside of her breast before trailing down her rib-cage to the subtle swell of her hip. In a single, lightning-fast movement Nate grabbed her leg and swung it up over his waist, simultaneously rocking his hips into hers. Alyx couldn't help the low moan that escaped her lips as her body instinctively arched up to meet his. For the first time she could feel the true measure of his need pressed tightly against her in the most intimate of fashions, and yet it was not enough. Not nearly enough. Nate growled low in his throat at her body's response and his mouth captured hers with a growing urgency.

_We're never going to make it to the bed, _she mused vaguely through the haze of lust. Mentally shrugging, Alyx reached for his trouser fastenings. _Who needed beds anyway?_

"Wait," Nate rasped as he pulled back and stopped her wandering hands.

_Wait—What? No?!_

"What's wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. _You better not be backing out on me now, Howe, _she silently growled in frustration.

Nate cupped her face in his hands, leaning his forehead against hers as he paused to catch his breath.

"Not like this. Not against the door," his gravelly voice rumbled in her ear.

_Why not? _Her eyes asked him. Nate cocked his eyebrow at the silent question and then sighed as he registered the doubt that'd crept into her cerulean gaze.

Sometime after they'd first established their relationship the pair had discovered they could hold complete, in-depth conversations without ever actually speaking a word. It was a useful talent in moments that required discretion or brevity, but could also evoke a sense of profound intimacy. Given the intensity of their current emotions, he shouldn't have been surprised that she would begin one of these wordless exchanges.

_Do not mistake me. I want you, lass. But I've more respect for you than that, _his eyes told her. _ I want this time…our first time…to be special_.

Silence. Nate sighed, running a hand through his hair.

_I wish to make love to you. Not rut you like a stallion in heat. _

Alyx's head tilted in thought and she eyed him curiously as she absorbed his response.

_We do have all night you know, _her gaze silently offered.

Nate blinked in shock and then laughed heartily as he scooped her up into his arms and deposited her on the edge of the bed. Alyx squeaked in surprise at his sudden movement, and inwardly groaned at the unladylike sound despite the mirth dancing behind his eyes.

When he knelt in front of her she froze, much like a deer caught in the hunter's sight. A wicked grin crossed his lips as he took one of her ankles between his large hands and slowly slipped the shoe from her foot. The other soon joined its fellow on the floor, but Nate did not immediately drop her leg. Instead his thumbs whorled over the delicate bones at her ankle, eliciting a shiver that traveled up the length of her leg despite her attempts to remain nonchalant. When she moved to scoot back further onto the bed he stopped her with a light touch to the thigh. She shot him a questioning look, but he simply took her hands and stood, pulling her to her feet as he did. Without a word he led her around to the side of the bed where the moonlight was strongest.

Silence stretched out between them as Nate breathed in long and deep, silently bidding himself to maintain tight control over his screaming libido. As his eyes glided across the frothy material of her chemise it was all he could do not to physically react to the teasing hint of her curves, made visible by the same silvery light that imbued everything in its path in an otherworldly glow. Her hair, her skin, even the lush curve of her eyelashes was silver-tipped by the muted light of the moon; standing out in stark relief against the shadowy backdrop of her bedroom. Were there such a thing as fairies or nymphs or other such things, he fancied she could pass for one of their ranks…and yet looking into her face he saw only frank hunger mixed with an unmistakable undercurrent of uncertainty…startlingly human qualities if he did say so himself.

Alyx froze as he reached out unbidden to trace the delicate line of her collarbone, his hooded eyes following the path his fingers took. When his hand stopped just over the laces of her bodice she drew in an unsteady breath and held it. It took only a couple quick tugs for them to give way beneath his touch. Then, with painstaking care, he pushed the straps of the delicate fabric away from her narrow shoulders. All at once her shift plummeted to her waist, where it briefly caught on her hips before pooling around her feet. She swallowed hard as Nate's eyes silently traveled over her bared skin. She suddenly felt acutely vulnerable; exposed in way that she never had before, and fear unexpectedly crept into her chest.

The years had not been kind to her body, she knew. Skin that was once smooth and unblemished was now riddled with the scars of countless battles. What curves she had gained from her pregnancy had been robbed by her most recent brush with death, causing her to look more like a twelve year old boy than the full grown woman and mother that she was. It made her feel painfully inadequate under the intensity of his heated gaze. Without thinking Alyx's arms rose to cover herself but Nate stopped her mid-movement and pulled hers arms out and away from her body so that he might continue his perusal of her unobstructed.

"Beautiful," he rasped when his eyes finally rose to meet hers. When she opened her mouth to argue he stopped her words with a gentle kiss. _"Beautiful,"_ he repeated more adamantly, his eyes daring her to dispute his words.

Something inside of her relaxed at his solemn insistence and suddenly she found she could breathe again…at least until he reached for the hem of his tunic. Time seemed to slow as she watched him lift the light-weight fabric up over his head and discard it in a single, smooth movement.

Every line, every detail of him was committed to memory as she studied the sleek lines of his chiseled physique. She could not help but compare him to Alistair in that moment, though it was akin to comparing a rapier to a battering ram. Whereas Alistair had been broad and thickly built from years of wearing heavy plate armor, Nate had a leaner, more elegant build that suited his long, lanky frame. Years of drawing a bow had sculpted his arms and chest into a perfect symphony of tightly corded muscles that bespoke of a deadly, supple strength lying in wait just beneath the surface. Her mouth went dry as her eyes followed the light dusting of hair smattered across the hard plains of his chest, down the angular lines of his abdomen until it disappeared altogether beneath the waistband of his trousers. Like herself he, too, carried the physical telltale signs of a warrior's life; though most of his scars were nothing more than subtle nicks and lines that gave character rather than detracted from the overall beauty of his appearance.

That's when she saw the long, crude scar that marred his side and her heart dropped clear to her toes. Without thinking her fingers reached out to trace the jagged black mark that started just above his right hip bone. Nate merely watched her in mild amusement.

"Velanna and Anders did what they could, but this," he said, waving his hand at the blackened scar, "goes beyond the limits of their combined knowledge. They say dark magic corrupts. In this case it is my very flesh that has been marked, though the wound itself has long since healed."

"Oh Nate," Alyx breathed. "If only—"

"Don't. Don't blame yourself."

"But if I hadn't—"

"_Stop_," Nate growled, and then sighed as her lips pinched in silent petulance. A brief smile flitted across his lips as he tucked a russet lock of hair behind her ear and lifted her chin until her gaze met his."I would gladly suffer worse if it meant having you here by my side."

Alyx stared up into his silverite eyes, made brighter by the moon's soft glow and saw only truth in their steady gaze. Her heart threatened to burst with the love she felt for this man. She could not possibly deserve him. Yet here he was, staring down at her as if she was the most precious thing to him in all of Thedas.

Once again her fingers moved purposefully to his waistband of his trousers and this time, he didn't pull away. Even so his hands stopped her progress once the fastenings were undone and he pushed the material down past his hips himself. Despite herself Alyx could not keep her eyes from dipping…and then widening…once he divested himself of the last of his clothing. A smug smirk of masculine pride flitted across his shapely lips as he took a dominant step towards her, and her pulse jumped in response to his sudden proximity. He was close enough that she could feel the heat leaping off his skin. Close enough to see every silvery speck in the depths of his beautiful eyes. Yet he did not move to touch her.

Nate hissed sharply through his teeth when curious fingers reached between them to brush feather-light up the velvety length of him. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise when he abruptly stopped her wandering touch and crushed her small frame against his chest. Breathing became difficult all over again as he kissed her with renewed passion.

Alyx shuttered at the delicious feel of his heated skin pressed firmly against hers, and although his mouth ravaged hers with devastating skill she was inundated once again with the feeling that it wasn't quite enough. Her arms instinctively twined around his neck, tangling in the silky raven locks at the back of his neck as she pulled herself up and against him in the desperate attempt to get closer. This, of course, was a physical impossibility, lest she somehow transcend the laws of physics, but that didn't stop her from trying despite the futility of her endeavors.

When her hands wandered from his neck to his back she barely stifled the gasp that jumped to her lips. She paused in her ministrations when his muscles stiffened beneath her touch, and then quickly resumed their exploration in unspoken reassurance. Only once he relaxed again did Alyx allow herself to fully absorb what her fingers had found…dozens of long, ridged scars that criss-crossed the entire expanse of his back. Through the lust came an unbidden wave of anger, but then the feeling was overridden by the ever-growing fervency of their mutual desire and the scars were forgotten as quickly as they were discovered.

Nate subtly guided her backwards towards the bed, though she only seemed to notice when the back of her legs brushed up against it. She shot him a small, seductive smile before collapsing back against the sheets, pulling him down on top of her as she did. She sighed into his mouth at the familiar yet foreign feel of his weight pressing her down into the soft folds of the feather-down tick. All at once the need for him overwhelmed her and her eyes met his in a single plea. Yet despite his initial burst of passion Nate seemed more than content to draw things out.

"Oh no you don't," he growled when she arched her hips greedily into his.

"I swear to the Maker, Nate—"

"Patience," he whispered into her ear, his gravelly voice causing a jolt of lust to go lancing through her like a bolt of lightning. Then he was exploring her, meticulously and expertly, first with his hands…then with his mouth.

Alyx's frustration grew with every attempt to hurry him along. Each time he would simply shackle her wrists in his large hands and pin them securely above her head. Then he would drive her into such a frenzy of lust that she would forget who she was, let alone what she'd been doing. Again and again he brought her to the very edge of desire. She soon lost count at how many times he licked and nipped and teased her into a near state of blissful completion, only to back off long enough to start the sweet torment all over again. Time in itself had no meaning in his arms. It could have been minutes or hours that she writhed beneath his skillful touch, calling his name into the night like a prayer. All she knew was that when he was finally there between her thighs she had never been more ready in her entire life.

_Please, _her eyes silently beseeched as she pressed invitingly against him.

Nate cursed colorfully under his breath and then in one long thrust of his hips, he took her. Alyx gasped at the exquisite feel of him inside of her, of the heat emanating from him as he filled her completely. He paused to allow her body to adjust to him and then slowly, he began to move. Alyx wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in deeper, matching the rhythm of hips with her own. They moved together in perfect cadence, faster and faster until they were both sweat-slicked and desperate, their conjoined breaths coming in shallow gasps.

Before long, the tension that had been steadily building inside of her burst forth in a single, fiery explosion. She cried out as the world shattered into a thousand tiny pieces around her and then endeavored to rebuild itself all at once. Stars danced in front of her eyes as she convulsed with pleasure, each wave more intense than the last. Nate moaned deep in his throat as her legs tightened reflexively around his hips. A few seconds later he followed her over the precipice, his body shuddering against hers in heady release.

Afterwards they collapsed to the bed together, remaining entwined through the aftershocks of their lovemaking. As their hearts beat in steady tandem, Alyx could not help but feel as if they had crossed the threshold of some strange new world, leaving behind the husks of their former selves. The new Alyx looked into the depths of new Nate's eyes and suddenly she felt as if she could do anything, so long as he was near. It was a good feeling.

"Worth the wait?" he asked once he was able to speak, breaking into her thoughts.

"I don't know," she replied, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Perhaps we should do it again. You know…just to be sure."

Nate chuckled at the wicked gleam in her eyes and then rolled until she was lying on top of him. His hands traveled seductively down the expanse of her back to curl deliciously around the luscious curve of her bottom.

"Anything to please my Lady," he murmured teasingly, his voice dropping a scintillating octave. Both of Alyx's eyebrows shot up at the feel of his arousal pressed firmly against her stomach.

_Already? _Her eyes asked in genuine surprise.

"Warden…remember?" he replied, eyes dancing in silent mirth as he showed her just how willing he was to appease her.

* * *

_***Author's Note: I cannot express just how difficult this chapter was to write. Love scenes do not come naturally to me to begin with. Add to that the intense desire to do right by these characters and to you, faithful readers, who have been waiting forever for the culmination of Nate and Falcon's relationship…and bam! Instant writer's block! I found myself agonizing over every word, wondering if I had struck the right balance between fluff and steam…then I would throw the whole thing out and start from scratch with a growing sense of impending doom. I don't think I'll ever quite get there…"there" being that place where all the words just seem to effortlessly click into place (at least when it comes to his subject matter)…but I hope that some part of me was able to find the happy median I was looking for. **_

_**Thanks again to all of you who continue to read and support this story, and a big thanks to all of you who have added or reviewed. Without you guys I would never have worked on this story as long as I have. Hmmm….Perhaps it is because I'm inching ever closer to the finale that I find it so much harder to write then it did at the beginning. I sincerely hope that you guys stick it out with me to the end. I promise to do my utmost to make it worth your while. Anyway, if you like my work...found glaring errors or inconsistencies (as it is just after four in the morning here, I'd say there is likely to be any number of these)...just want to say hi, etc., etc…please tell me about it! I always love hearing your opinions! ~Prose **_

_**P.S. Up next…pillow talk, inner-reflection, and more steamy moments. Stay tuned!**_

_**Muse Tunes: "Vesper" by David Arnold ("007: Casino Royale" OST); "Secret Wedding" by James Horner ("Braveheart" OST); "Whisper of a Thrill" by Thomas Newman ("Meet Joe Black" OST); "After the Storm" by Mumford & Sons, "Noisy Sunday" by Patrick Watson.**_


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